Eternal Night
by lola84
Summary: Bella wakes up in a living nightmare, with superhuman powers she doesn't understand. As the events leading up to her death come back to her, she realizes who is to blame for damning her to an existence of eternal night. And vengeance would be sweet...
1. Chapter 1

_Trapped_

I awakened in a soft, black place, completely disoriented. My eyes were blind in the total darkness and I took a moment to try to clear my head. The disorientation wasn't exactly an unfamiliar feeling, because I'm a heavy sleeper and I sometimes wake up not knowing where I am or how I got there. This time, however, felt different. I closed my eyes and tried to think back to the last thing I was doing before I fell asleep. My memories seemed distant and hazy, and all I could recall were vague impressions of the nightmares I'd had while I slept.

The next thing I noticed was the smell. An unusual mixture of scents assaulted my nose—I could distinctly identify the smells of cedar and satin, the musk of raw, wet earth, and traces of the sickeningly sweet essence of flowers. I hated the unique smell of cut flowers from the florist – it brought forth a flood of unwanted memories of the funeral – carnations, the neighbor's dry tuna casserole, insincere, clichéd words of consolation, lilies, red-rimmed brown eyes, empty and staring back from the mirror, the hollow feeling in my heart, chrysanthemums, melancholy notes from an old pipe organ...

I became aware of an odd cacophony of sounds emanating from every direction: faint noises of crawling, scratching, squirming, and clicking. The sickening symphony turned my stomach, and for the first time since I'd opened my sightless eyes, my stomach tightened with fear. I couldn't fathom why it was taking me so long to return to awareness and remember how I'd gotten here. I was certain that my senses of smell and hearing were heightened by my virtual blindness, and that wasn't aiding my cause to figure out where I was.

Shaking my head in a vain attempt to clear it, I decided it was time to get up. I thought that stretching out my muscles would surely help to clear the hazy fog from my head. As I sat up, my forehead made contact with the hard ceiling above me. The impact didn't hurt, but it startled me, so I lay back down quickly. Extending my arms to explore my surroundings, I began to panic.

I reached out to my sides, sliding my hands along the satiny walls of my narrow enclosure. Hesitating, I slowly felt above me, terrified of what I might find. My hands met with the satin lining there, confirming my fear. Disbelieving, I slid down, using my hands and feet to trace the planes of my three-dimensional prison. When recognition hit me, I started to scream, and even the sound of my own voice startled me. It was unfamiliar, alien.

My worst nightmare had been realized. I was lying in a box – cedar lined with satin – six feet in the damp earth, with insects and vermin burrowing all around me and the heady stench of my funeral flowers still clinging to the interior of my casket. I'd been buried alive.


	2. Chapter 2

_Escape_

I waited for the tears that never came. They pricked my eyes, but I couldn't make them fall—I was denied the satisfying release. I was probably dehydrated. I stopped screaming, trying to conserve what little oxygen I had left. Even though I knew it was hopeless, I started making plans to escape this, my final prison. If I could somehow generate enough force to push the casket lid up… then the only barrier between me and sweet, life-giving air would be six feet of firmly packed dirt. I was going to die.

Trying to escape would be a pointless, painful struggle. Unless… unless there was something unusual about my burial. I let the hope swell up inside me, if only to comfort me in my final hours. A morbid thought occurred to me: I hadn't been embalmed. The very idea made me wretch – a dry, horrible noise – but nothing came up. I idly wondered how long it had been since I'd eaten anything. I didn't feel hungry, but I supposed that was to be expected. Food would be the last thing on anyone's mind when they discovered they were trapped in a wooden box in the ground.

It was cool in the casket, cooler than it should have been, given that I'd been recycling the air for an indeterminate amount of time with my hot, humid breaths. It was a tight space and the oxygen would run out soon, but my breathing wasn't labored. Not yet, anyway.

I tried to focus on calming myself down before I carried out my doomed escape plan. Slowing my respiration would save me valuable minutes of air, though the thought crossed my mind that perhaps it would be better to expedite what was certain to be an unpleasant end. I concentrated on my breathing – in, out, in, out – and I tried to gauge the effectiveness by listening for my slowing heartbeat. I listened at length for a beat that never came. I could hear my own ragged breaths, the crawling and crunching of myriad subterranean life forms, and the frustrated grinding of my molars, but nothing else. My heart was dead and silent.

I lost control. Screaming in terror and rage and panic, I flailed my arms and legs wildly, pounding and kicking in a useless tantrum. The wood splintered above me, dirt pouring in and choking me through small holes made by my fists. I coughed and sputtered, frantically trying to clear the earth from my mouth and face. Unthinkingly, I tried to scramble away from the influx of moist, loose dirt. Screaming and choking, I sat up, defying the confines of my small space. As my head hit the interior of the casket, there was a cracking noise, and my head and shoulders broke through the wood.

In shock, I stopped breathing, aware of the soil covering my mouth and nose. Blind and unbreathing, I struggled to stand up. Somehow, I extricated myself from the splintered casket and pushed up through the black earth. It was like swimming in a hard, heavy sea. As I struggled to pump and clamber and claw my way to the surface, it occurred to me that my lungs weren't burning. Between the length of time I'd gone without oxygen and the physical exertion, I should have suffocated by now, and yet I felt little more than slight discomfort.

My hands burst free from the earth, followed by my head and the rest of my body. Pulling myself out from my grave, I collapsed on the ground, taking in greedy breaths of unnecessary air. As I looked around the cemetery, I gasped in surprise. It was a dark, moonless night, but, inexplicably, I could see everything. My eyes traced the veins on a tree leaf that rustled in the wind over a mile away. Turning, I could see every divot and imperfection in the granite headstone before me.

**Isabella Marie Swan**

**1991-2009**

Reading my own name on the headstone, a chill traveled up my spine. I found it mildly ironic that I had just discovered I had no heartbeat and didn't require air, then clawed my way out of my own casket, but merely reading the name on my headstone freaked me out.

Strangely, I was irritated at the lack of an epitaph. I fancied myself an avid reader/writer/poet, so I thought a fitting epitaph would be the least anyone could do. Guilt overwhelmed me when I realized there was no one left who knew me well enough to decide on one. My parents, Renee and Phil, were dead. Phil's brother, Uncle Charlie, was a man of few words, and he didn't know me well enough to know what would be appropriate, anyway.

Shaking my head to rid it of these selfish, meaningless thoughts, I truly took in my surroundings. Charlie buried me by my parents, I realized as a wave of intense emotion threatened to sweep me away. I was laid to rest right beside Renee and Phil. Their shared headstone was elegant, and familiar. I picked it out myself, only six months ago.

A chronic pain tugged at my chest, raw and debilitating. I wrapped my arms around my knees, struggling to breathe, and propped myself against the smooth granite slab that bore my parent's names. The stone wasn't cool against my cheek—it was the exact same temperature as my skin. That vaguely struck me as odd, because midnight in Phoenix was usually the coolest time of day. Phoenix. I was in Phoenix, where I buried my Mom and Dad.

As I clung to the headstone, shaking with tearless sobs and trying to hold my body together, I was inundated with memories that cut like serrated knives to my flesh. It was September, my senior year of high school. My parents and I went out to dinner to celebrate my 18th birthday at one of my favorite restaurants. The three of us got along amazingly well—they were my best friends. I knew I was lucky to have such a close, loving family, and I cherished every moment of it.

We had discussed my college plans over dinner, talking excitedly about the different options. I wanted to go to school to study literature, and my parents were unwaveringly supportive. They were every bit as thrilled as I was at the prospect of my growing up and striking out on my own. After dinner, to my shock, Renee and Phil presented me with the entire contents of their savings account. I was stunned beyond belief—my birthday present was four years worth of tuition.

My immediate reaction was that I couldn't accept it, but they wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. It was their dream for me to go to a good university, to succeed and follow my dreams, and I knew in my heart that this was what they wanted. So, unbelievably, I accepted it, hoping that someday I would be able to do something as incredible for them.

We were on our way home – Phil driving, Renee in the passenger seat, me in the backseat, singing our lungs out to some inane pop song – when it happened. A horn blared, tires squealed, the world spun in slow motion… Renee's hand reached back to me, instinctively. Phil yelled my name. Even in death, their only thoughts were of me and my safety, never themselves.

A sickening screech of metal, the popping and shattering of glass, a bone-jarring impact, then nothing. Blackness. Despair. In one violent accident, I lost my entire life. As EMTs removed me from the vehicle, I screamed and begged them to leave me. I wanted to stay with the broken, battered bodies of my parents. I belonged with them—I wanted to die too. What kind of cruel fate takes everyone you love and leaves you behind to suffer?

That was six months ago. The weeks that followed are a vague memory – I made the arrangements myself, had the funeral (the _second_ worst day of my life), dealt with the legal matters – but it was all a blur. I was a cold, unfeeling zombie, retracted so far into my protective, catatonic state that I didn't think I'd ever reemerge.

About two months ago, I hit rock bottom. I sat in a warm bathtub, straight razor in hand, my mind made up. I'd done enough research to know that I should make the incisions lengthwise, not across. Strangely, I felt no fear. I just wanted the nightmare to end. I wasn't afraid of the pain—I almost welcomed the sensation of the blade sliding into the skin of my wrist. At least then I would feel _something_… I hadn't felt anything since that night, when the world went black. My soul died in that car with my parents, I was just finishing the job.

At the last second, something stilled my hand. Not fear, or indecision… maybe it was guilt. What would Phil and Renee say? My loving parents, who had given me everything and asked for nothing in return… They would be horrified, devastated, disgusted, and I knew it. They would want me to live, to find a way to go on. My parents always made it clear that I was the most important thing in their lives, and the best thing that ever came from their 20 years of marriage. I knew that if I killed myself, I was killing the only thing that remained to tie them to this earth. With that realization, I couldn't do it. I couldn't destroy the only living by-product of their love: me.

That night, I made a conscious decision, and it was the hardest decision I had ever faced. I decided to live. Not to keep stumbling through the pathetic half-life I'd been leading, but to truly live. It would be so much easier to slide the cold steel blade deeply into the flesh of my arms. In my zeal, I'd probably sever arteries and tendons and muscles. The exquisite tug of the knife through my flesh would liberate me. To live would be much harder, I was certain.

Once I made the decision to try to patch up some semblance of my old existence, I knew I needed to confront all the emotions that I'd been hiding from since the accident. I sought therapy for two months, then I moved to Forks, WA to live with my dad's brother, Charlie. My Uncle Charlie was the Forks Chief of Police—a quiet, humble man from a quiet, humble town. I planned to stay with him to finish up the remaining three months of my senior year of high school before heading off to college, because it was what my parents would have wanted.

College. I'd applied to ten schools before the accident, and I held as many acceptances, but I had yet to decide where to go. I wanted to get as far away from Phoenix and my haunting memories as possible, that I knew for sure. Even though I only spent a few days in Forks, I realized that I wouldn't mind putting some distance between myself and the Olympic Peninsula, either. With its endlessly overcast skies and constant rain, Forks was not the kind of place where one went to recover. The place fit my mood, and the gloom was a persistent reminder of the emptiness in my heart, the pain that would never heal.

Then I remembered. The last thing I could remember was my first day of Forks High School. In my mind's eye, I could see the cloud cover, and swarms of students covered with hooded raincoats. In a blur of classes… the recollection faded out. In that moment, I knew the key to unlocking what had happened to me was in Forks. I would go back, and find answers to my burning questions: Am I dead? How did I die? What _am I_?

Burning. I felt a burning pain in my throat that, when I acknowledged its presence, escalated to a searing, scorching need. I fought back another wave of tearless sobs. What am I? My head snapped to the left, to the trees beyond the cemetery gates. I heard rustling, breathing, the thick pulsing of blood, the wet lub-dub of contracting ventricles…

Leaping to my feet with inhuman grace, I sought the source of the delicious, disgusting sounds. I ran with horrifying stealth, zipping and bobbing through the trees with barely a sound. I saw it then, stalking its own prey. A mountain lion. Crouching, I felt no fear, only an unfamiliar yet all-consuming predatory instinct. The searing pain in my throat worsened, and it felt like my insides were aflame. Without thinking, I leaped at the sinewy cat, launching myself onto its back. Ignoring the hisses and struggles, I sunk my teeth through the skin on the side of its neck, directly above the warm, pulsing jugular vein.

I clung to the weakening animal with all my strength, grunting and moaning as I sucked the warm, thick blood greedily into my mouth. The coppery fluid wasn't appetizing, but it soothed the fire in my throat. As I sighed, sated, and fell away from the limp body, I was assaulted by a stream of memories, painful and disjointed.

The salty, metallic stench of blood. Grunting, moaning, sucking, draining, swallowing. Dilating pupils that eclipsed topaz irises—the unfeeling eyes of a killer. Cold, smooth hands. A body of unyielding marble. A soft, velvet voice, predatory and dangerous.


	3. Chapter 3

_Remember_

The next thing I knew, I was running. Sticking to the forests and sparsely populated areas, I planned to run and run until my lungs gave out with exhaustion. They never did. I didn't need food or sleep—I only stopped to drink the blood of animals when it was absolutely necessary. I found that I preferred the blood of bears and mountain lions to deer and elk. I snapped their necks and drained them dry, sometimes two at a time. I was a monster.

As I ran, particularly after I fed, more memories of the final day of my life resurfaced. Disconnected fragments of events came back to me, and I started to piece them together like some perverse puzzle.

The last day of my life was my first day at Forks High School. I was driving my beloved, battered old truck, which had somehow survived the journey from Arizona to Washington. I parked it in the lot outside the school, where it blended in with the other assorted beaters, save for three flashy cars that I noticed. As much as I tried to keep my head down and avoid notice, the other students treated me like a shiny new toy, vying for my attention and questioning me endlessly. The most remarkable part of my day was when I saw a beautiful boy and his strange, captivating family. He met my eyes in the cafeteria, giving me a look I couldn't interpret. They told me his name was Edward Cullen, and I saw him again in Biology.

Oh, God, no. Biology. My pace slowed from an inhumanly fast run to a sudden stop. I locked my knees when the memory assaulted my mind, and I was flung face-first into the ground with incredible momentum.

That day, I walked into Biology class, the overly friendly Mike Newton at my heels. The teacher directed me towards the only empty seat in the room, beside the impossibly gorgeous, bronze-haired boy. He gave me the most terrifying glare I'd ever seen—he had the cold, furious eyes of a predator. I walked past the fan, my strawberry-scented hair catching the breeze. Edward seemed to sniff the air. For a moment, he looked like he would spring from his seat, but he stayed put, his hands clenched so tightly around the edge of the table that I'd swear he'd warped the wood.

All through class, he stared at me with a murderous glare. He terrified me, yet simultaneously intrigued me. So beautiful, so dangerous. So frightening, so flawless. Like the sullen Angel of Death. I imagined touching him in ways my virgin hands and lips and body had never dreamed of touching anyone.

Before the end of class, he leaned over to me. My heart pounded in my chest. A flood of fear-induced adrenaline surged through my veins at the exact instant that an equally powerful flood of arousal soaked through my white cotton panties. Edward inhaled deeply, groaning, oblivious to the curious stares of the people around us. It was almost as if he could smell me. He spoke into my ear and his honeyed breath swirled around my face, intoxicating me.

"Bella," he spoke in a silken tone, "would you mind accompanying me out to my car after class?" He looked down shyly, then glanced up at me from beneath his long fringe of black lashes. All traces of darkness were gone from his eyes, and they shone a beguiling topaz. "I've got something I'd like to show you." He held my gaze for a moment and exhaled another delicious breath of air into my face.

Unable to form a coherent response, I nodded. It felt as though he had me under some sort of a spell, and I was powerless to refuse him. When class ended, he simply hooked my arm in his and led me out to the parking lot. My heart fluttered at his touch, and he looked over at me with a smirk, as if he'd heard it. Dazzled by his scent, his touch, and his mere proximity, I forgot all about his strange behavior in class, and the terrifying blackness of his eyes.

As we walked in the fresh air, my head seemed to clear, and I realized that I'd agreed to leave school with a complete stranger. By the time he'd led me nearly to the end of the parking lot and diverted our course toward the surrounding woods, I began to get nervous. "Uh, Edward," I asked, my voice shaking perceptibly, "where are we going? You said you wanted to show me something in your car."

"Hmm?" he said, as if I were interrupting his thoughts. "Oh, yes. Well, I decided I'd like to show you something in the woods, instead." His innocently lopsided grin did little to assuage my unease as he led me into the woods.

He pulled me to a stop in a small clearing and paced around me, clearly pleased with himself. He looked strangely like a photographer, trying to set up the perfect shot. He circled me once, twice, then fluffed my long, mahogany locks out around my shoulders and stood back, admiring me. Then, my worst nightmare began.

Edward stalked up to me slowly, practically purring in anticipatory delight. I began to shake uncontrollably, and he seemed to enjoy my reaction. My heart felt like it would thump out of my ribcage, but I couldn't make my legs move. Somehow, I knew that even if I tried to run, he would catch me. Whatever he was trying to do, he was drawing it out. I couldn't stop a big, salty tear from rolling down my cheek.

Instantly, he stood before me. His pointy pink tongue darted out and licked the tear from my face. As if he couldn't restrain himself any longer, he stepped forward, his hand fisting in my thick hair and pulling my head back to expose my neck. He buried his nose in the skin of my neck, dragging it from my collarbone, up beneath my ear and over to my jaw line. Rubbing and nuzzling his face into my neck, he reminded me of a cat, seeking to saturate itself with its favorite smell. He held my stiff, shaking frame close to his body, and I could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against my stomach.

His hands began roaming roughly over my body, feeling and squeezing wherever he pleased. As he touched me, I began weeping guiltily. After all, it was I who had been fantasizing about this since the first moment I saw him. I envisioned his hands on my body, his lips on my skin, but not like this. This was wrong. Cautiously, I spoke. "Please stop, Edward. This is wrong. You're hurting me." The words came out as barely a whisper.

He removed his lips from my neck to look at my face. I'm sure my expressive brown eyes relayed fear, hurt, and bewilderment, but none of those emotions seemed to register with him. "I can't stop," he said with a shrug and a deceptively boyish smile. "You see, my dear, I'm already going to hell anyway, so I may as well do it thoroughly."

With that, he let his sharp, slick teeth graze my neck, and I whimpered with fear. "Hush now, Bella. This doesn't have to hurt. I can make it feel good for you. Do you want me to do that for you, Bella?"

If he could somehow ease the pain of whatever horrible thing he was going to do to me, I would let him. If that made me a coward or a traitor to my own body, then I was both, but in truth I just feared the pain. So, with tears in my eyes, confusion still clouding my mind, I nodded.

Edward met my eyes for a long moment, and his golden eyes penetrated mine with an unparalleled intensity. He inhaled deeply then breathed a swirling cloud of his glorious scent into my nose and between my parted lips, rendering me senseless and unsteady on my feet. Suddenly, I felt no trepidation, no uncertainty, only inexplicable, undeniable lust. I was utterly and completely dazzled.

My eyes were unfocused as he pressed his soft lips to mine with exquisite gentleness. Our mouths moved together, my warm, pliant kisses meeting his cool, firm ones. Overcome by the incredible sensations stirring within my body, I threaded my small hands in the back of his hair. He kept up the languid pace of our kisses as his icy hands moved under the hem at the back of my shirt, stroking the skin there with feather-light caresses. I shivered at his touch and released a small, involuntary groan into his open mouth. In response, he slipped his clever tongue between my lips, massaging mine and bathing it in his sweet, incredible taste, intoxicating my senses further. Completely under his spell, my body reacted of its own accord, and I sucked his tongue further into my mouth, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.

One of his hands moved to tangle in my hair, the other slipped under the front of my shirt, grazing my stomach and traveling up to cup my breast. Removing his hands from me for a moment, he gently pulled my shirt off over my head, then unbuttoned his own and spread it out upon the ground. One hand beneath my neck, the other around my waist, he lowered me down on his shirt.

Distracting me with gentle kisses to my lips, he quickly unhooked my bra and unbuttoned my pants. Climbing over to straddle my body while continuing to kiss me, his sweet breath enveloped my face, and he slipped my jeans and underwear off my legs, then slid my bra off my shoulders, tossing it onto the pile of clothing. I barely noticed that he was still almost completely clothed, while I lay bare and spread before him. One of his hands moved to the back of my neck, gently angling my chin up to give him better access to my mouth. The other hand moved deftly to my left breast, squeezing it gently and brushing his thumb across the nipple. It hardened beneath his touch, and I shivered.

His hands moved to lightly caress my arms and shoulders, then down to my stomach and up to my breasts, lightly teasing my nipples then pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. I moaned loudly as a warm surge of wetness trickled from my body. Edward smelled my arousal, and his eyes darkened. While one hand continued to toy with my hardened nipple, his other hand moved lower, towards my swollen, wet heat. I gasped at the unfamiliar sensation of his long, dexterous fingers on my delicate skin, but he continued to kiss my mouth gently, distracting me from the intensity of his touch.

His slick fingers slid down the folds of my skin, then moved up to circle my most sensitive part, then down again in a maddening circuit. His head lowered to suckle my breast, trailing soft kisses and nibbles and licks to its hardened peak. He sucked my nipple between his lips and teased it with the pointy tip of his tongue as his hand continued its adept movements, making me groan and arch my back in pleasure. When I did so, he moved to the side before sliding me over his lap, holding me as he continued to touch my body.

Edward moved his lips back up to mine, penetrating my mouth with his nimble tongue just as I felt the foreign sensation of his finger sliding inside me. I gasped and he deepened our kiss, adding another finger to my throbbing need and massaging my sensitive nerve bundle with the wet pad of his thumb. An unfamiliar feeling swelled in my stomach and I began to pant, unsure of what was happening to me. "Ssh, now," he spoke against my lips, his scent enveloping me once again. "Don't be afraid. Just let yourself go."

With that, he quickened the pace of his motions, sliding his fingers into me and massaging my insides while his thumb worked the tight bundle of nerves above. Worried and confused, I locked my gaze on Edward's swirling topaz eyes. In that moment, he was my only tie to the world, and I trusted him to keep me from floating away. I had forgotten his words about promising me pleasure to distract me from the pain—I had forgotten about everything but the sensations welling up inside me. He pulled his mouth away from mine to look into my eyes as I came apart in his arms.

As wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me, he lowered his lips to my neck, sinking his teeth into my flesh as his fingers continued to pump inside me. I cried out in a tortured expression of pleasure and pain as he latched onto my neck, sucking with wild abandon. Hips arching under my back, he held me across his lap and ground his erection against me as he grunted and moaned into my neck. He sucked deeply from my wound, and as he thrust and twitched against my back, I could feel the cool dampness of his release soaking through the fabric of his jeans.

My body went limp as the world went dark. It was then that I began to die.

As I died, I had a strange dream. I dreamed that Edward suddenly stopped, disengaging himself from my neck. "What have I done? Oh God, Bella, please! NO!" he wailed. Even my dying brain knew that was an impossible scenario, though. Killers feel no remorse, and that was just my mind's pathetic attempt to ease my suffering as I slipped into the cold darkness of the eternal night.

Naked, alone, and left for dead, I burned for what may have been days or months or years. When the burning stopped and my heart exploded in my chest, I remained still. I felt cold and lifeless and dead, inside and out. I thought I _was _dead. So, I withdrew into the protective cocoon of my mind. I was there, locked within my mind, when the search dogs found me, when the medical examiner broke bone saws on my body trying to cut me open for an autopsy, and when they lowered my casket into the ground at my funeral.

At some point, lying cold and undead within the earth, I must have realized that I was not dead, after all. I was no longer living, either… he had stolen that from me.


	4. Chapter 4

_Rage_

Face down in the black muck that coated the forest, I uttered inhuman howls of pain and rage as the memories assaulted my psyche. I wailed for my lost life and my lost innocence. I screamed at the monster I'd become, and the one who had taken my life. He touched my body and he made me enjoy it, and for that, I hated myself. But more than anything, I hated him.

When darkness overtook the forest and my cries subsided, I felt myself slipping back into the far recesses of my mind. It was a safe, dark place, where I couldn't feel the pain. Disconnected from my senses, everything was black and numb. It was as though a cold, hard shield had enveloped my mind, blocking me from the outside world. And the further I retreated, the more pervasive the darkness became. I was no longer merely secluded from the world around me—I was blocked from my own thoughts, feelings, and dreams. In the black emptiness, I waited.

After what may have been hours or days, I slipped back into consciousness. It was as though somehow, when I made the decision to come back, the mental walls expanded to free me from my cocoon of solitude. Springing to my feet, I noticed that the burning sensation in my throat had returned with a vengeance. Instinctually, I raised my nose to the breeze, searching for a scent that would lead me to my next repugnant meal. Inhaling, I detected a scent that made my muscles clench and pooled the venom in my mouth. Without a thought, I bounded through the forest, seeking the source of the scent. As I approached, I could hear the warm, wet pulsating of two hearts as they pumped and swirled and circulated the fragrant fluid of my desire. I could hear the regular patterns of breathing from two sets of lungs, and… voices.

By this time, I was close enough to see the source of the delectable scent. It was two young men, dressed for hiking in the woods. As they laughed and talked about carefree things, I stalked them in the shadows, thirsting for their blood. At that moment, the true, vile nature of my hellish existence became frighteningly clear to me. I crouched to spring, violently fighting my instincts in a futile struggle, and the world went black.

When I came to, throat still burning with thirst, I let out a dry sob of relief. The hikers were long gone, and with them, the relentless temptation of their blood. Fate was a cruel monster, designing my demon body to crave something that my conscience would not allow. I would not permit myself to drain the lives of others, as mine had been drained from me by the most abhorrent of creatures. I would resist.

It occurred to me that I had not felt the all-consuming thirst in the days following my death. I had been surrounded by humans then – the search party who found me, the people at the morgue, everyone at my funeral… and Uncle Charlie. But, at the time, I was blocked off so completely within the depths of my own mind that I felt nothing. I could smell nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing… I was only minutely aware of my surroundings, but not in any finite, sensory way.

That, too, must have been how I resisted the scent of the hikers. At the last possible second, as my final, desperate defense against my own repugnant nature, I slipped behind the walls of my own consciousness. It worked, but it was almost too late. The predatory urge to hunt, consume, and kill was inexorably strong. The unfairness, the disgust… the utter horror of my existence welled up in my chest and escaped my lungs as a long, guttural cry.

The risk was too great. If I failed, I would be no better than the despicable demon who killed me. So, I could not be allowed to exist. Decision made, I tore through the forest, knocking down trees and leaving a small path of destruction in my wake. Finally, I found what I was looking for. I picked up the razor-sharp stone from the ground and held it to the pale skin of my wrist. Without hesitation, I raked it across my skin with considerable force. Instead of the bright surge of blood I was expecting, my arm was covered with a grey, chalky dust. With horror, I examined the cutting stone. The sharp edge had filed completely away on the skin of my wrist, rendering it flat and impotent.

Horror turned to anger, and I let out a frustrated wail. When realization hit me, I slumped on the forest floor. I couldn't even terminate my own loathsome existence. Truly, I was in hell. And there was only one person to blame: Edward Cullen. At that moment, I vowed to find him. I would find him and extract my vengeance in the most deviant, despicable ways I could imagine. After all, I'm already going to hell, so I may as well do it thoroughly. For the first time since that fateful day at Forks High School, I felt an unfamiliar smile stretch across my face.


	5. Chapter 5

_Return_

The need for vengeance swelled and rose in my throat, nearly choking me. Cold, blind rage fueling my feet, I ran as quickly as my stone legs could carry me. The forest around me melted into a blur of greens, browns, and blacks. When I caught an unfamiliar scent on the breeze, I turned to investigate. The source of the smell was a grizzly bear, and I used it thoroughly, sating each of my evil needs. I took out my aggressions on the willing beast – snarling, snapping, clawing, fighting – and, claiming the spoils of my inevitable victory, I swallowed its thick, pulsing blood to ease the fire in my throat.

Sprawled on the dirt beside the bear's desecrated corpse, I wretched uncontrollably, but it was a useless effort. Nothing came back up—my greedy body had absorbed the blood as quickly as I'd ingested it. Drinking blood was merely another vile element of my nature, and my unproductive heaves were a cruel reminder that fighting against that nature was futile.

Faced with the revolting lifestyle that had been forced upon me, mine was an easy decision: I would return to Forks and gather all the information necessary to destroy my killer. Then, after exacting my revenge, I would destroy myself. I took off with renewed determination, my feet barely ghosting the ground below me. When the rocky terrain gave way to a moister, greener earth beneath my feet, I realized that I'd made it to Washington. My path was not marked by signs or landmarks, but I could smell the wetness permeating everything around me, and I knew I was nearing my destination.

It was broad daylight when I arrived to Forks, and I stuck to the outskirts of town, avoiding the curious eyes and tempting fragrance of the humans there. It wouldn't do well to be recognized a mere week after my own tragic death.

Idly, I wondered if I was still even recognizable as Bella Swan. The smooth, cold contours of my face felt unfamiliar—the same, but somehow different. Thinking of my own appearance, I was suddenly aware of the disastrous state of my clothing. I still wore the black dress that I'd been buried in, but it was almost unrecognizable as the same dress that used to hang in my closet, waiting for a special occasion. I uttered a dry, strangled laugh. I supposed I finally had occasion to wear the dress after all—my own funeral. The morbid turn of my thoughts sent a shudder down the length of my spine. Once a conservative, attractive piece, the dress now hung from my shoulders in tatters. Soiled with muck and dried blood, it was nearly as disgusting as the creature wearing it.

I needed new clothes and clues to what had happened to me, so I headed for the one place where I hoped to find both: Charlie Swan's house. Approaching from the woods behind the house, I paused at the back door, listening for the presence of anyone inside. The house was empty, as I'd expected. It was midday, and Charlie had work at the station.

Silently, I opened a window and slipped into the kitchen, where my eyes were immediately drawn to a newspaper on the table. I glimpsed a picture of myself on the front page, and a sick curiosity swept over me. I noted that the article was not posted among the obituaries—instead it was nested among news stories. I supposed that finding a girl's body in the woods near the high school was probably the biggest story to ever hit this dreary little town. Beside the old picture, taken about a year ago, was a small block of text.

**Isabella Marie Swan, 18, was found dead in the woods outside Forks High School on Friday, May 13. The official cause of death is unknown. Funeral services were held in Phoenix, AZ, on Monday, May 16. Ms. Swan's parents, Phil and Renee Swan of Phoenix, AZ, were killed in a tragic accident in September of 2008. She is survived by her uncle, Charlie Swan of Forks.**

As the words rang out in my mind, cold and clinical, I was deeply disturbed. Reminding myself that this was necessary, I shook my head to clear it then focused on the facts. I'd been killed on Monday, then left in the woods to burn. The change must have been completed at some point before Friday, when the search teams found me. It didn't make sense to me that the whole transformation process had taken a matter of mere days—the poison had circulated through my body for what felt like an eternity, searing my flesh from the inside out and nearly driving me mad. I supposed that three days could feel like an infinite span when every second was spent silently begging for death.

Committing the article to memory, I repositioned the paper where I'd found it, then flitted up the stairs to the room where I'd been staying. Having only arrived a day prior to starting school, I hadn't even finished unpacking my bags yet. I pulled out a slim black zip-up sweatshirt and a faded pair of jeans, and stuffed more clothing into a small black duffel bag. Numbly, I moved down the hallway to the bathroom, where I started the water running in the shower and methodically removed my tattered dress.

Standing in only my bra and underwear, I looked down at myself for the first time, a startled gasp escaping my lips. My body had changed in subtle but recognizable ways, and I ran my curious hands over the unfamiliar contours, exploring the firm muscles of my calves, my lean, tight waistline, and my fuller, rounder breasts. Were I a different person, I might have been pleased with the changes, but instead, I was disgusted. _His_ unwelcome fluids had invaded my body, burning it from the inside out, killing me, changing me into a monster, but damning my soul wasn't enough—he had to distort my body into some twisted version of perfection. Darkly, I wondered if his spiteful poison had changed me into his ideal demon, spawned from his own fantasies.

It was with great trepidation that I turned around looked at my face in the bathroom mirror. The general features of my face were still recognizable, but each one was changed, perfected. My cheekbones were higher, more-well defined, and my face had lost some of its youthful roundness. My nose was a little straighter, lips a little fuller, and my hair fell darker and straighter down my back. The most disturbing thing was my eyes—the irises were a demonic crimson, and they swam and shifted unnaturally in the light. Appalled yet simultaneously fascinated, I watched their unnerving undulations in the mirror until the shower water ran cool.

Stripping off my underclothes, I stepped into the shower, surprised to find that the cold water didn't bother me. As I lathered my tangled hair with my familiar strawberry shampoo, I allowed myself to imagine that none of the events of the past few days were real – that I was the innocent, fragile, _human_ Bella instead of the bloodthirsty creature I'd become. No amount of imagining would ever bring back my humanity, though, so I finished my shower and stepped out, toweling my hair to dry it. I threw on the jeans and hoodie, not bothering to put on a bra or underwear, then grabbed my bag and slipped out the back door of the house.

Sticking to the woods, I made my way to the high school to find Edward Cullen, my murderer. I ran all the way, reaching the student parking lot within minutes. The disconcerting sensation of déjà vu blindsided me as I looked across the parking lot and my eyes came to rest on three flashy cars, distinctly out of place among the other humble vehicles. The owners of those pristine vehicles were in school, going about their perfect lives as though I never existed, as though nothing ever fucking happened, as though their dear brother hadn't lured me out into these very woods and molested me before he drained the blood from my dying body.

Overwhelmed by disgust, I barely noticed when the bell rang, dismissing the students for the day. They streamed out of the building almost immediately, and I could hear the wet thumping of their hearts and smell the sweetly intoxicating fragrance of their blood, and I felt my senses begin to shut down as I retreated within the protective walls of my own mind. Just before I blacked out, I saw him. He strode from the school building like he owned it—bronze hair sticking out at all angles, wearing a cocky smirk, confident swagger in full force—and the sight of him reignited the smoldering embers of fury in the pit of my stomach.

In that moment, I was simultaneously lost, found, and consumed… by some contorted mixture of hate and rage and fascination. I watched from the woods as Edward approached the silver car. When he got close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his irises, something behind my eyeballs snapped. The walls of my mind expanded, enclosing us both within an impenetrable tunnel, where time stopped and everything else fell away—it was only Edward and me.

As suddenly as it happened, the walls lifted away, and I dropped to my knees in shock. I took a quick look back to where the Cullens had gathered, and they were forming a loose group around Edward. Their expressions ranged from confusion to outright distress, and I wondered what they had experienced in that moment. I could have heard even the faintest of whispers, but none of them were speaking. They looked… frightened? Without a word, they gracefully slid into their respective cars and sped out of the parking lot. I followed beside the vehicles in the nearby woods on foot, determined to uncover their darkest secrets.

**EPOV**

Staring openly at the clock, I sat in Spanish class, waiting for another torturous school day to come to a close so I could drop the unbearable charade. The mental yammering of the human children around me hummed inside my sensitive brain like the relentlessly irritating buzz of flies. I only wished that I could swat them away as easily, but my creator, Carlisle, would never approve. My tenuous hold on sanity was slipping, and I needed to get home and _exorcise my demons_… the thought made me smirk darkly. The unfortunate boy beside me cringed away in fear, so I smiled at him even wider, giving him a glimpse of my razor-sharp, venom-coated teeth. He pissed himself—I could smell it when he sprang up from his desk and sprinted out of the classroom. Disgusting fucking human.

Only ten minutes to go... ten fucking minutes should feel like a drop in the proverbial bucket to someone who had been around for more than a century, but if I had to spend one more minute listening to the bullshit being broadcast from the simple minds around me, I feared I might go mad. Well, madder. For years, I'd been the unwilling recipient of the thoughts of everyone I had ever encountered, but it still never failed to surprise me just how dull and predictable human minds could be. They all wanted the same things: sex, money, power, fame… And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep them out. With one exception—dark chocolate bewildered eyes, portals to a silent mind—FUCK! I couldn't think about the girl, not yet, not here. I felt my dick hardening in my pants, and I cursed it under my breath. If I could only make it just a little longer without thinking about her…

As the bell finally rang, I grabbed my book bag and walked across the parking lot to my Volvo. Haunted by visions of her deep brown eyes, I paused mid-stride, because if I closed my eyes and inhaled the breeze, I would swear that I could fucking _smell her_. Of course, I knew that was impossible, because she was gone. Dead. Deceased. Murdered by my own hand. When I succumbed to the bloodlust, I essentially sentenced myself to existing in a state of anguish, knowing I destroyed the one person whose body and blood sung to my silent heart. And the punishment for my own weakness, my own lack of control? The human girl would haunt me for the rest of my pathetic existence.

Her eyes, her skin, her smell, her fucking taste – the salt of her tears, strawberries, coppery blood, freesia, musky arousal, the adrenaline of her fear… The one thing I ever gave a shit about, the one thing I ever wanted in the whole century of my miserable, self-indulgent existence, and I destroyed it. I thought it would be worth it, a memory I'd savor for all time, but it wasn't enough. I took everything I wanted – her blood, her body – but she didn't satiate my thirst like I expected… _she made it worse_. That fucking siren witch would torture me for all eternity, and I was as hard as a rock for her.

I could hear the familiar tenor of thoughts from my family as they followed me to where our cars were parked. Pressing the button to unlock the doors to my Volvo, I froze. Suddenly it felt as though a set of impenetrable lead walls had been dropped around my mind. I could still see, but I could no longer hear the thoughts of anyone around me… I couldn't hear my brothers and sisters, nor any of the other students still milling about in the parking lot. The sensation was both incredibly peaceful and incredibly terrifying, but as quickly as it happened, it was over.

The voices in my head instantly returned, louder than ever, and I winced at the intrusion. It felt like everyone was screaming at me: Alice was frantically yelling that my entire future disappeared for a few seconds, and Jasper was hollering about how, for a moment, he couldn't sense my feelings. Emmett looked confused and Rosalie looked bored, but I didn't hesitate to hop into my car, because we all knew that it was imprudent to have a discussion about… whatever it was that just happened… in the high school parking lot.

On the drive home, I decided that I didn't want to discuss it with them at all. I could already hear what they were thinking—they thought I'd finally snapped, that I'd somehow gone haywire… a malfunctioning vampire. I was content to let them think what they wanted, because I already knew for a fact that I was losing my mind. I floored the gas pedal, determined to make it home before my siblings, and I beat them by a mile.

Wasting no time, I locked myself away in my solitary room on the top floor of the house. I could hear the others enter downstairs and I knew they were talking about me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. In a frenzy, I stripped the clothes from my body and sat down on my leather couch. From the table beside me, I retrieved a scrap of material—it was a torn piece of Bella's shirt that I kept as a memento from that fateful day in the woods. I held the scrap to my nose, inhaling deeply as my fingers wrapped around the base of my stone cock. Jerking myself roughly, I thought about the way it felt when I frantically sucked the hot blood from the wound my sharp teeth had made in her neck. Letting out a groan, I pulled faster. I remembered the way her heart pumped blood from the wound in warm little spurts, but it wasn't enough for my greedy mouth… I had wrapped my lips around the bite and sucked, drawing deeply from her and taking all she had to give. I cried out as I shot my cold release onto my stomach.

As I sat back, waiting for my unnecessary breaths to slow, I thought about the end. It wasn't until her heart slowed to a weak, erratic pulse that I realized my mistake. It was all ending so quickly, and I would never have enough. I pulled away, but it was too late. I had taken too much, and I was still unsatisfied, but she was dying. I touched her skin, and I could feel her body cooling rapidly, practically drained of all its blood. I thought about taking her, burying myself deep inside her as she lay dying and mumbling incoherently with her last breaths. I had actually unzipped my pants and knelt between her legs, but as I gazed down at her broken body, I knew that something was terribly wrong.

I remembered what I cried out before I ran away – _"What have I done? Oh God, Bella, please! NO!"_ – and it occurred to me that I might have destroyed the sole reason for my existence. My life was empty and meaningless before I found her, but for a few moments, when I held her in my arms, I felt truly complete… and my pointless life would be even bleaker now that I knew what I was missing. Sitting alone and naked in my room, I screamed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I'm back. Things are about to get interesting…

_Vampire_

**BPOV**

I was desperate to find out anything about these monsters… anything that could aid me in my quest for vengeance and destruction.

I followed the cars from the high school parking lot to a huge, white house in the woods. The house was half-covered with windows so I maintained my distance, staying deep within the surrounding forest. I was careful to keep my breathing virtually silent because I knew that if I could hear their movements, they could most likely hear mine as well. I sat motionlessly, listening as the last of the Cullen siblings entered the house through the garage. Their activity seemed to centralize in one room as I strained to hear across the distance.

"Carlisle!" a lyrical female voice cried out.

"What is it, Alice?" a man answered in a clear, confident voice. "What's wrong?"

"It's Edward," she replied, panic evident in her tone. "Something happened at school!"

As if on cue, an inhuman scream resonated from the top floor of the house, startling me so badly that I nearly cried out.

Ignoring the dreadful sound, Alice spoke again. "You know Edward hasn't been himself since… well… since _Bella_." I was shocked at the mention of my name, but I continued to listen, fascinated. "But in the parking lot today after school, it was like he just… shut down."

"Can you elaborate, please?" Carlisle said evenly.

"His future went black!" Alice practically yelled. "And Jasper couldn't sense any emotions from him, either. It was like he didn't exist!"

Another voice, calm and smooth with a slight southern drawl, interjected. "I couldn't feel anything from him. I've never felt anything like it… it was like he wasn't even there."

"How long did the phenomenon last?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'd estimate it lasted only around ten seconds or so," the man who must have been Jasper replied.

I automatically associated the "phenomenon" they described with the moment in the parking lot during which I had unintentionally trapped Edward within the walls of my mind. Could it be possible that, somehow, the walls that I created acted as some sort of shield against the Cullens' unnatural powers?

"What's happening to him?" Alice asked pleadingly.

A snide female voice interrupted the conversation. "He's finally fucking losing his mind, that's what's happening to him. Killing that human put him completely off his rocker."

I moved closer in order to see who was speaking. Almost noiselessly, I crept towards the house, pulling up the hood of my black sweatshirt. From my position behind a tree, I could see through a window into what appeared to be the dining room. Around a huge table sat six people, four of whom I recognized from my first and only day at Forks High School.

The gorgeous, vicious blonde spoke again. "If you ask me, I don't know what the big deal is. Her blood sang to him; he couldn't be expected to resist it. At least he dragged her off into the woods rather than massacring an entire room full of humans just to get to her." I shuddered silently at the thought.

"I agree, babe," the huge man sitting beside her said. "When I came across my singer, I couldn't resist, either. I just don't know why he's flipping out now. So he killed one tiny little human… it's not the end of the world."

I was confused by their words. I couldn't imagine why Edward would be acting strangely or how it could have anything to do with my death at his hands. It was not as if he'd shown any guilt or remorse during the act… he had looked ecstatic! I was fairly certain that he'd actually climaxed against me as he greedily sucked the life from my body. Covering my mouth, I silently gagged into my hand.

The man at the end of the table, Carlisle, furrowed his brow in thought. If I didn't know better – if I didn't know that they were all dead-hearted monsters – I could have mistaken his expression for a look of fatherly disappointment.

"I didn't raise this family to be so callous and disregarding of human life," he said quietly. "It is understandable that Edward was simply unable to control himself when faced with his singer's blood, but that doesn't make her death any less tragic." A woman with hair the color of melted caramel put her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

The tiny, pixie-like girl nodded. "Bella was a person… with a home and a family. Don't any of you remember what that's like?" she said, the musical tones of her voice tinged with sadness.

"I agree that it's regrettable," Jasper commented, "but I don't understand why he's dwelling on this so much. I mean, it's not as if he hasn't killed before."

I listened carefully, unsurprised to hear that Edward had a history of murder. He was truly a demon of the most dangerous kind.

Alice became visibly agitated. "Yes, he's killed before, when he was off playing God and handing out his vigilante justice… but those people were _murderers_. Bella was an innocent 18-year-old girl!"

Vigilante justice? A killer of killers? I barely withheld the derisive snort that threatened to escape. Who the fuck does he think he is? What could possibly give him the authority to determine who should live and who should die? I couldn't help but compare his actions, probably driven by a God complex of epic proportion, to my own murderous intent. I justified that mine was a quest for revenge, not borne of some misguided need to play judge, jury, and executioner. Besides, you can't really kill someone when they're already dead.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I forced my attention back to the conversation.

"I'm sure she didn't feel a thing," the blonde woman responded with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Alice whispered. "He offered her… _pleasure_ to take away the pain. He dazzled her senseless then practically molested her."

My eyes pricked with silent tears of mortification, but none fell. I had been such a coward, accepting Edward's offer to lessen the pain at the price of betraying my own body. I would rather face a thousand screaming, agonizing deaths than have his disgusting, murderous hands on me again.

The entire room fell silent as Alice's statement sunk in, and the occupants of the table wore various expressions of shock.

"How do you know, Alice?" Carlisle asked quietly.

"I saw it, after it was too late. I was distracted with looking out for Jasper that day," she said sadly. "Jazz was having a hard time all morning, but all of a sudden he lost control and I made Emmett hold him in the bathroom until he calmed down. We didn't realize it at the time, but Jazz must have been feeling Edward's bloodlust in addition to his own."

"Oh, _shit_," Emmett whispered.

"Seriously, are we talking about the same Edward? The asexual, virginal vampire?" Rosalie said with a disbelieving snort.

Carlisle replied solemnly. "The need to drink is often closely associated with other… primal urges. Perhaps the strong call of her blood intensified his sexual urges, as well," he said. The words were clinical, but he couldn't keep the hint of disapproval from seeping into his tone.

Sickened, I didn't want to hear any more. I considered leaving but decided to stay a few moments longer. I was desperate for information, and so far listening to the Cullens had left me with more questions than answers.

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Carlisle sat up in his chair, clasping his hands decisively. "There are some important issues that need to be addressed here. The first is obvious: we need to figure out what went wrong with Edward today and what we can do to stop it from happening in the future."

"The only way to 'cure' Edward of being a fucking psycho would be to tear him apart and burn the pieces," Rosalie interrupted under her breath.

My mouth fell open as I considered her offhanded remark. Tearing him apart and burning the pieces… could that be the way to kill him?

Casting a chastising look at Rosalie, Carlisle continued. "Our other problem is with the Quileute tribe. They are suspicious about Bella's disappearance, and they've been poking around to try to find evidence that could link our family to her death. Perhaps we could have reasoned with Sam, but now that Jacob Black has assumed control of the pack, the wolves have become dangerous and unpredictable. I suspect that they're just looking for an excuse to start a fight," he said with a slight frown.

I really had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded as if the Quileutes were enemies of the Cullens. If so, I reasoned that they might be able to help me somehow.

A voice interrupted from the doorway, its familiar velvet tones chilling me to the pit of my monstrous soul. The tiny hairs stood up on the back of my cold, dead neck and an involuntary hiss left my lips before I could contain it.

"They'll never be able to pin it on me," Edward commented casually, as though he'd been present for the entire conversation.

My unnatural ruby eyes focused on him immediately, and I was unable to pull my gaze away from the wicked creature. He wore only a pair of low-slung blue jeans and an odd half-smirk, and he kept holding a small square of cloth to his nose. With horror, I recognized the pattern on the cloth… he was sniffing a piece of the shirt I had worn on the day I died. Rage and disgust formed an almost tangible red haze over my vision, and I vibrated with silent fury.

"How are you so sure, Brother?" Emmett questioned.

"Because the only witness was Bella, and I gobbled her all up. Ergo, no witnesses," he replied, stuffing the cloth into his mouth and gnawing it slightly as if to emphasize his point. As he tongued the cloth, his eyeballs rolled back into his head and he grunted softly. "I ate her," he whispered to himself around the fabric, his red lips pulling downwards into a frown, "because I'm a vampire and that's what vampires do."

Automatically, my marble body froze in place, still and silent as death. Even my thoughts were frozen in shock as I stood, unable to process what he'd just said. A single word filled my mind: Vampire.

When my brain began to function again, my thoughts returned slowly. My skin is pale white and ice cold, as hard as diamond. I have unnatural strength and speed… and the thirst. I am a monster who drinks blood, killing to live and living to kill.

I am a vampire.

My wail of abject horror echoed through the forest, scattering wildlife for miles into the distance and sounding to my ears like an animal crying out in agony. Instantly recognizing what I had done, I shot off through the darkness in the blink of a human eye, letting the forest envelop me as I escaped.

**EPOV**

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," I mumbled, curling up into a ball with my beloved piece of fabric and rocking slightly. I felt absolutely empty, as though a central part of me had been ripped away. I was never truly satisfied with my existence, but now that my Bella was gone the pain was acute. Eternity never looked so bleak.

Eventually, I attempted to pull myself together. Of course, as I suppressed my frantic thoughts, the minds of the others permeated my own. As always, Carlisle's mental voice was the most distinct, and I let his rational, relatively organized thoughts play through my head. I could hear them as clearly as the words he spoke downstairs, and as was more frequently becoming the case, he thought only of me.

_Edward had a rough transition to this life… was always so sensitive… never accepted his own nature. Despite it all, I've always known that he had a good soul. My first and favored son… so brilliant and thoughtful… should be helping me run the family. He thought that killing human sociopaths would give his eternal life some meaning… I knew it was wrong… the guilt almost drove him mad… he was never the same after he came back. Vampires weren't meant to exist as he has, alone for so long without a mate… no one else to live for. Always a bit of a selfish creature… so much worse now… spiraling so far into the darkness that I wonder if I'll ever get him back… I refuse to believe that he has lost his soul_

Unable to listen anymore, pulled on a pair of jeans and slunk down the stairs to the source of the thoughts, finding myself in the dining room where the entire family had assembled.

As I looked around at the wide, honeyed eyes of my siblings, I could see my own crimson irises reflected back at me. The sanguine color was a gift from my little Bella, and it reminded me that a part of her was still flowing through my dead veins. I giggled slightly at the thought.

Ever cautious, Carlisle was worrying aloud about the idiotic pack of wolf pups. It annoyed me that they were sniffing around in my business, but I knew that they would find nothing… I had even taken the clothes she was wearing. All I left behind that day was Bella herself, and she was now rotting in the ground beside her parents in Phoenix. An unfamiliar stab of pain tore through my gut at the thought, and I tried not to visibly flinch.

With the swatch of _eau de Bella_ held to my nose, I tried to reassure the family that there was nothing there for the wolves to find. Nothing left of my poor, sweet, delicious Bella. Internally, I tried to reassure myself that there was nothing else I could have done… no way I could have somehow kept her… stopping would have been against my nature.

I poked the precious piece of fabric into my mouth and licked it absently as I thought. Oh, the fucking incredible taste! The same story has been true for millennia: **Vampire meets Singer. Vampire drains Singer. Vampire fondly remembers the experience for all eternity. The End.** Unfortunately for this vampire, the story isn't going like it was supposed to. In my version, the vampire goes crazy and pines away for the girl for the rest of his miserable days. He goes absolutely insane with the need to have one more taste of her blood, one more touch of her body…

I was shaken from my contemplation by a sound that almost made my shriveled heart beat again. It was a cry of misery and hopelessness, and I recognized it with every fiber of my immortal being. It was _her_. Somehow, the impossible had happened, and Bella had returned to me.

**A/N: **Leave me some love/comments/questions.


	7. Chapter 7

_Vision_

**BPOV**

My senses dulled by fury, I tore through the forest, destroying ancient trees and leaving mauled animal carcasses in my wake, hating myself more with each and every step. My emotions were completely out of control, and for the first time since my change I felt every bit the monster that I had become. Only now, I could put a name to the dark demon that I have become. _Vampire_. I thrashed around the woods, crushing boulders and keening with impotent rage until night had fallen and the moon was high in the black sky.

I made my way towards the more populated part of town, and only when I reached the main road did I consider the possibility that I could run into someone, even at this late hour. It was foolish of me to take such a risk, and perhaps I placed too much faith in the ability of my mental shield to stop me from hurting anyone, but by the time I realized it was too late and I was already well into town.

I was unsure of my destination until I reached it, but as I stood in the parking lot of the closed convenience store, I knew why I had come. My hood in place, I gracefully stalked around to the back of the store, prepared to break a window if necessary to gain entry. Fortunately, I was able to pry up a window with my stone fingers, snapping the lock without shattering the glass. I could see perfectly in the darkened store, and in a case near the counter, I found what I was looking for. The satin silver Zippo lighter seemed appropriately fancy for such a pretentious prick as Edward, and considering what I had planned for him, getting a pretty lighter for the job was the least I could do.

Lighter in hand, I exited the store as quickly as I had come. With nowhere else to go, I slipped away from the main road and ran into the deep wilderness surrounding Forks. I sat down on a rock and tried to absorb everything I'd learned at the Cullens' today, but my emotions were churning so violently that I couldn't even sit still, much less think properly.

"_Tear him apart and burn the pieces."_ The phrase kept repeating over and over in my head. I wasn't even sure if it would work on a vampire, but I had to try.

Squeezing my crimson eyes shut, I pinched the bridge of my nose, dreading what I was about to do. I took a deep, unnecessary breath then wrapped the fingers of my right hand around my left pinkie finger. I twisted and pulled sharply, and a sickening metallic ripping noise drowned out my pained scream as my pinkie tore free from my hand.

Panting and shaking from the pain, I opened up my right hand and peeked at the gristle in my palm. As I watched, the dismembered finger began to seep clear fluid from its jagged base. The sight made me gag and I threw the finger to the ground in horror, hiding my left hand behind my back because I couldn't bear to see its disfigurement. Clenching my jaw, I flipped open the lighter, prepared to see if the finger would burn. I knelt on the ground and slowly brought the flame towards it, but when I almost reached the tip, the finger twitched violently.

I screamed, falling backwards on my behind and closing my eyes against the grotesque sight. After everything I'd seen, heard, and felt over the past week, I was only mildly surprised that my reanimated finger was the last straw to send me into hysterics. My maniacal laughter was followed by dry heaves, and by the time I'd stopped gagging and choking my little pinkie finger had squirmed its way over and reattached itself to my hand.

Rising to my feet, I flexed all five fingers of my left hand experimentally. There wasn't even a telltale scar. I shook my head in disbelief, because that was seriously disturbing, but I tried to put the whole experience out of my mind for the moment. My little experiment had proven that it was possible to dismember a vampire, but that the missing pieces sought to reattach themselves. I reasoned that perhaps that's why it would be necessary to burn them.

I still needed to see for myself that vampire… parts… were inflammable. I wondered how to test my theory, short of lighting myself ablaze. In a flash of brilliance, I decided to try to ignite my venomous saliva. From what I could tell, venom was the prevalent substance in my body, so if it could burn, it was likely that my entire body could also burn. I spat a little pool of venom onto the ground then touched the flame to it briefly. Instantly, it combusted with a loud pop, leaving behind a small plume of thick, dark smoke. My jaw fell open with the revelation.

I wasn't sure which gave me greater satisfaction—knowing that I would have my revenge against my murderer, or knowing that I'd be able to end my own unholy existence afterwards.

I paced back and forth in a small clearing, wearing a deep track in the earth and steeling myself for what was to come. I was going after Edward Cullen, and if his family members tried to stand in my way, I'd dismantle them all, too. One way or another, my sentence in hell would be well-earned.

**EPOV**

The tortured screech was still resonating through the forest as I snapped my head towards the source of the sound. "Bella!" I growled. In my overwhelming desperation to get to her, the animalistic side of my nature took control and I crashed effortlessly through the solid wood of the front door. I landed on my hands and knees in the front yard, sniffing the air and snarling like a rabid animal.

"Where is she?" I demanded in a low hiss as my family filed out onto the porch through the hole where the front door should have been.

Hands held up and speaking softly as if I might pounce at any second, Carlisle approached. "Son, I don't know what you thought you heard, but that noise came from an _animal_," he said slowly, both aloud and in his thoughts.

"It wasn't an animal, GODDAMNIT, it was my Bella," I snarled, causing Carlisle to take a cautious step back. "I know that was her, so where the fuck is she?"

Listening briefly to their minds, I found that each of my siblings was thinking the same thing: that some dying animal had neared our property and was the source of that agony-filled howl. Only Jasper's mind was blank; he stood on the porch breathing heavily, his nostrils flared and fists clenched as he shared my frustration and desperate need to find her.

It was still early evening, but the skies were darkening rapidly as heavy storm clouds rolled in from the coast. My inhuman vision easily scanned the shadowy forest, but I couldn't see any traces of Bella, nor any clues to where she might have gone.

Emmett's thoughts practically bellowed in my head. _She's dead, bro. Bella is _not_ coming back. You have to get a grip!_

"She was right here—I can smell her!" I growled as I began sniffing along the ground, searching for her addictive scent.

"Of course you can smell her. We can all smell her," Rosalie said coldly, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched me with a look of disgust. "You've been rubbing her scent all over your body. It's _everywhere_."

I hissed in her direction but didn't respond, instead extending my pink tongue to taste the strawberry-freesia essence of Bella on the breeze. I found the most concentrated area of her scent behind a tree outside the dining room window. She was right here! Burying my nose into the grass where she had been, I took deep hits of the scent like an addict, stopping only to rub my lips and chin into the fragrant earth.

My mouth filled with venom as I rubbed my face then my bare chest onto the ground, trying frantically to saturate myself with her smell. Grunting, I rolled over onto my back, mindlessly rubbing my shoulders and hair over the ground like a cat rolling in its favorite scent.

Concern for me filling his thoughts, Carlisle guided the family back into the house and away from my display.

I flipped again, licking at the grass as I grew more and more excited. The scent brought back a flood of memories of that fateful afternoon… holding Bella in my arms – my fingers inside her and my teeth in her neck while she cried out to me. Humming and grunting softly, I pressed my pelvis into the ground, the pressure against my erection making me growl with pleasure. Imagining what it would be like to push my cock into her soft, wet heat, I thrust against the dirt – once, twice – then sat up on my knees and unbuttoned my jeans as I felt my balls tightening. With a low groan, I spurted my venomous release onto the grass, sniffing in fascination as the scent of my venom mingled with Bella's mouthwatering aroma. Mine. I growled lowly then sprawled out on the ground, satisfied at having marked the place where she'd been as my own.

I didn't care what the others thought; I _knew_ my Bella had been here. I could feel her in my body and in my mind, and she sang to me just as strongly as she had the first day I saw her. We were inextricably connected, and somehow, some way, she had returned to me.

Ejaculating on the lawn must have calmed me down enough to think clearly, because I realized that for the moment marking my territory was the most that I could do. It would be impossible for me to track Bella by her scent. As much as I hated to admit it, Rosalie was right—after bathing with her strawberry shampoo and rubbing bits of her clothing all over myself, I smelled as much like Bella as Bella herself, and I had undoubtedly left false trails all over the property.

Astonishingly, though, I wasn't frantic… actually, I felt quite peaceful, and it wasn't even Jasper's doing. It was such an unfamiliar sensation that for a moment I didn't recognize it, but for the first time since I stood screaming over Bella's dying body, I felt _hope_.

Whistling to myself as I refastened my pants, I strolled up the porch steps and through the Edward-shaped hole in the house into the living room. Again, my entire family was there, staring at me like I was some sort of science experiment.

"What?" I asked lightly, looking around.

No one responded, but I took a look at myself through their thoughts and started laughing. There were blades of grass sticking out of my hair in every direction, dirt and bits of earth clinging to my mouth and clothes, and I reeked of sex and venom and Bella.

"Oh, right. Sorry, I'm not really sure what came over me. I have it under control now," I said with an innocently lopsided grin before heading up the stairs to my room, still chuckling along the way.

The thoughts of my siblings followed me up the stairs, and they were slightly different variations on the same theme: _Edward has absolutely lost his mind_.

I took a shower and cleaned up a bit, changing into fresh clothes when I was done.

Stretching out on my black leather couch, I pondered my siblings' unanimous conclusion. I supposed it could be true… perhaps I _have_ gone insane. But if my delusion included Bella... well, I could think of worse ways to spend eternity.

A startled gasp from downstairs caught my attention, and moments later I was sharing a vision in Alice's mind. It was our house, at night, but the scene somehow felt _wrong_. I could see dark smoke billowing towards the sky, and everywhere… absolute carnage. The front yard was filled with limbs and marble flesh, torn and chewed apart. I recognized Esme's shoe on a mangled foot, and – _oh, God_ – Jasper's disembodied head. The vision progressed, and I could see Carlisle… he was missing most of his limbs and chunks of his body, but he was trying to save someone else… the person was on fire, screaming and thrashing in agony, and Carlisle was trying to smother out the flames with what was left of his torso. Unable to bear anymore, I tried to block out the horrible images, but they didn't stop. Alice screamed and the vision faded, but as it ended I saw a singed leather wristband that bore the Cullen crest in the flames. It was mine.

After the vision went completely black, I ran down the two flights of stairs in mere seconds. I found Alice in the floor, rocking and mumbling as she searched for alternate futures and decisions that could save us. She was flipping through decisions so quickly that I couldn't keep up with the images as they blurred through her mind.

Jasper had his arms around her tiny body, but even his powers of mood control could offer her no comfort. "Edward, what did she see?" he cried out frantically.

For a moment, I couldn't speak. I was as close as a vampire gets to being in shock… I couldn't even process what I'd seen, far less describe it to Jasper. Soon, Carlisle's authoritative voice broke through my stunned haze. "Edward, please. We need to know what happened in Alice's vision. I don't think she can even speak."

"It was," I began, shaking my head as if to clear the grisly image from my brain, "It was a massacre. All of us… dead. In pieces. And a fire…" My words cut off, and if I could have thrown up at that moment, I would have. "I just can't..."

"We have to leave!" Alice screeched suddenly, standing up and pulling Jasper with her. She looked around with wild eyes, half seeing and half blinded by visions of the future. "If we don't leave NOW, we all die! I've seen it, and there's no other way."

Knowing better than to question Alice's foresight, Emmett immediately went out to the garage, preparing the vehicles to leave. Rosalie went to her room and starting packing a bag and Esme ran to the phone to call the hospital and cancel Carlisle's shift for the night.

"How much time do we have?" Carlisle questioned, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Alice replied, frantic. "I can't see who's coming or how it happens… the visions are just too blurred!"

"The wolves?" Carlisle asked, looking to me.

"That would explain why the visions are blurred," I answered, "but the wolf pack isn't large enough to take out all seven of us. It's just not possible."

Carlisle was thinking about the Volturi, and I nodded in agreement that they were probably the only ones with both the motive and the capability to destroy our family. It was well known that the Volturi were wary of our talented coven, and we'd long suspected that they would use any excuse to break us apart.

"Eight minutes!" Alice screamed, just as the rest of the family finished loading up the cars at vampire speed.

"Let's talk about it on the road," Carlisle suggested, leading us toward the door.

Still deeply immersed in both Carlisle's thoughts and my own, I turned to follow after him, but a tiny hand on my wrist stopped me.

"No, Edward," Alice said, shaking her head. "You have to stay." She spoke to me even as she was getting another vision, her eyes blank and staring. She was blocking me from her mind, so I couldn't tell what she was seeing.

"Wait, what?" Emmett questioned, returning from the garage. "What do you mean, Edward has to stay?"

"It's the only way," Alice replied, still dazed. "We go and he stays. You just have to trust me."

Looking around at the worried eyes of my family, I could tell from their thoughts that they didn't want to leave me behind. They didn't particularly like to leave me alone because they thought I was "unstable" and since I'd killed my singer, it had only gotten worse.

"It will all work out, Edward," Alice reassured me.

"Alice, can you see why I have to stay behind, or what I'm supposed to do?" I asked.

"I can't tell," she replied in a quiet tone. She was still blocking her thoughts, so I couldn't tell whether her words meant that she didn't know, or that she was unwilling to share.

I turned to my father-creator, and we locked eyes, his honey gold to my deep crimson. We knew each other so well—he, the most compassionate man I had ever known and I, his wayward son. Though we disagreed at times, he would always have my affection and respect, and somehow he loved me unconditionally.

I could tell by the slight furrow of his brow that he was worried. _Be careful, son._

"Go, you're almost out of time," I said.

Carlisle gave a single nod of his head. "Everybody out!" he commanded and they all piled into the cars.

I stood, bewildered, as the cars disappeared down the long driveway then the familiar tenor of my family's thoughts faded out. My ears practically roared in the sudden silence. The house was buzzing only moments before with voices, thoughts, and movement, but now, _nothing_.

All I could do was wait for whatever fresh hell was about to rain down upon me. Even though the future had changed, I felt as though the horrible images I had seen were burned onto my retinas. Seeking to draw comfort from the one thing that could soothe me, I bounded up the stairs to my room in a flash and snatched up a piece of Bella's shirt, holding it to my nose and inhaling deeply.

The cloth smelled even better than usual, and I closed my eyes and fell back onto my couch just breathing it in. Nearly out of my mind with the glorious smell, my fingers worked the buttons of my shirt and I pulled it open. I brought the swatch of cloth to my mouth and licked it. The wetness only enhanced Bella's incredible scent and as I drug the cloth over my bottom lip, I imagined it was her touch. Slowly, _so_ slowly, I moved it over my chin and down, whispering it over my adam's apple and into the hollow between my collarbones. Pretending it was her fingertips, I pushed the soft fabric further across my skin until I reached my nipple, letting out an involuntary groan as I teased and circled it. My hand had just begun to creep down my solid abdomen when I stopped, sniffing the air. The mouthwatering strawberry-freesia aroma in the room had gotten noticeably stronger.

I heard the slightest sound behind me. My eyes snapped open and immediately I was on my feet, my body coiled to spring.

The sight before me made my jaw drop in disbelief. _Bella._

* * *

A/N: Ha, you have to have something to say about that… :D


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Twilight is property of SM. Here we go…**

* * *

_Destiny_

**BPOV**

Retracing my path from earlier, I made my way back to the Cullen residence on nearly silent feet. As I cautiously approached the house, I couldn't hear any movement from inside. I concluded that the Cullens must have gone somewhere, perhaps to hunt.

Then, I heard a sound— a deep sigh came from the top floor or the house. There was a curious hole in the solid wood of the front door, and I crept through it, sniffing frantically and listening for any sign of danger. I could detect the scents of the six vampires who had been here earlier, but the seventh vampire's scent was the strongest. The alluring scent drew me up two flights of stairs like a moth to a flame. When I reached the third floor and came to a slightly open door, I intuitively knew… The source of the incredibly appealing scent was Edward, and he was behind that door.

Noiselessly, I pushed the door open. There, stretched out on a black leather couch facing away from me, was Edward Cullen. I had only taken a single step toward his resting form when the board below my foot creaked slightly. Immediately sensing my presence, Edward sprung around to face me, his body hunched into a defensive crouch. Then, suddenly, he seemed to register who I was, and his coiled body straightened up just as his jaw dropped open. The expression of utter shock seemed out of place on his angular features, and I almost allowed myself a smug smile. Almost.

My brief amusement was quickly overtaken by my need for retribution as I stood, face-to-face with the creature that had taken my life a mere week ago. Practically vibrating with barely-contained fury, I wrapped my fingers more tightly around the silver lighter in my pocket. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth… Vengeance, justice… the difference meant very little to me at this point.

"_You_ did this to me," I accused, seething. My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, another _charming_ side effect of my change.

After making a slow, thorough scan up my body, Edward's dark eyes finally came to rest on mine. They were black, ancient eyes that reflected pain and despair from their inky depths. They held unfathomable secrets. His were the eyes of a predator whose power I knew all too well, and they were utterly terrifying.

A deep, dangerous growl rumbled from his chest and I automatically jumped back. It was a sinister sound that frightened me on an instinctual level, causing my unnecessary breathing to quicken and making the fine hair on the back of my neck stand on end. He looked me over hungrily, as if he were a starving man and I his last meal. Morbidly, I wondered with a shudder if I had actually _been_ his most recent meal. My entire body began trembling uncontrollably, and I couldn't contain the slight whimper that escaped when he started slowly moving towards me.

The feeling of invincibility left my body like bathwater down a slow drain, and suddenly I felt every bit the fragile human girl that I had been only a week ago. I hadn't considered a plan before I came here, as my actions were fueled more by anger and revenge than rational thought. Belatedly, the realization struck me that I had no idea how to fight, and no concept of whether or not Edward would be able to overpower me if it came down to that. It was becoming clear that I was tragically underprepared for this confrontation.

Panic set in, and like an internal gear had turned, I went from being near-blinded by rage to being almost incapacitated by fear. I tried to rationalize that I was just as indestructible as him now, but the logical part of my brain had been taken over by a deeper, older part – the part ruled by instinct. I was now an unwilling slave to my impulses, and I was standing in the same room with a murderer… _my _murderer, who molested my body, drank my blood, and turned me into this bloodthirsty abomination.

Observing Edward warily with my newly acute eyesight, I realized that I had barely seen him at all before, through my weak human eyes. Those qualities that had seemed slightly unsettling to me at the time were now magnified, and his sheer _unnaturalness_ was obvious. He was clearly not human, and I was a fool not to have realized it before. His features, in their absolute perfection, were startling. His muscles were impossibly sinuous and he moved with inhuman grace. The soft curve of his lips, the strong line of his jaw…

Such perfection was never meant to exist in nature. Every flawless part of him disgusted me because it was all part of the deception. It was a trick—a trap for the weak and fragile… the most beautiful disguise to conceal the darkest demon of them all. His face, his voice, and even his scent were all designed to ensnare his prey. And he was lethal. Even now, I felt an odd sort of magnetic pull towards him, but I had been his prey once before, and I would never let it happen again, to me or anyone else. Somehow, I would find the strength to destroy him.

**EPOV**

I was, for the first time in my very long existence, speechless. She was the most glorious creature I had ever seen… Like a dark angel, the siren child stood before me… How could this be?

As if she could read my mind, Bella spoke through tightly clenched teeth. "_You_ did this to me," she growled venomously.

It was impossible—I'd watched her take her last breath. I searched my impeccable memory for those final moments…

_Her pulse began to slow and her body went limp as I drained the lifeblood from her veins. I shivered in ecstasy as I drank, but when I looked down at her dying body, I felt an unexpected surge of remorse. She was perhaps the key to finding meaning in my own eternal damnation, but she was growing cold and still. By the time I realized my mistake, it was already too late. I cried out in agony at the revelation of my loss. Unable to bear the sight of her ruined form for a single moment longer, I grabbed up her clothing and ran. As I reached for the clothes, though, there was a sound, too weak to even register in my frantic state…_

Only now did I understand… the sound I'd heard was a faint thump from Bella's dying heart. Her tiny, fragile heart had held on for long enough to pump my venom throughout her body.

_My_ venom. She is _my_ creation. _Mine._

I growled possessively. The sound must have startled the girl, because she jumped back several feet, wide eyed. I took a moment to look her over. She was incredible… It was as if somehow my venom had molded and transformed her from an already beautiful young woman into my ultimate fantasy incarnate. My eyes were first drawn to her lips, plump and soft and preternaturally red. I imagined how it would feel to trace my tongue over those lips and dip into her sweet mouth. Her fine, dark eyebrows arched above eyes with just a swirl of gold mixed into their crimson irises. I realized with interest that she must have been drinking animal blood, which was unusual for a newborn. Her hair hung dark and shiny, with subtle hints of red mixed in among the dark brown strands. I ached to tangle my fingers in her hair and bury my nose in its glorious scent, and it was growing increasingly difficult to restrain myself from doing just that.

Her petite body was an absolute work of art, with long, defined limbs and tight curves in all the right places. Venom flooded my mouth as my keen eyesight discerned the outline of her perfect nipples through the thin black cloth of her sweatshirt. She still smelled like heaven— every bit as sweet but without the burn. I longed to peel the clothes from her body and explore her skin with my tongue and fingertips… However, at the moment she was trembling and apparently terrified of me. I supposed that made sense, though, considering that we didn't exactly part on the most amicable of terms (to put it mildly).

I put on my best attempt at a non-threatening expression, then ever-so-slowly started making my way towards her. As a newborn, Bella's emotions would be volatile at best, so I had to be careful to ensure that she didn't try to dart off through the nearest window. I was comforted by the knowledge that even if she tried to run from me, she probably wouldn't get far. I guessed that I could still outrun her, even though she was a newborn, both because I was so naturally quick and because I still had so much of her human blood in my system. Actually, since I had come so close to completely draining her, I probably had _more_ of her blood within me than what now remained in her muscle tissues.

It had been decades since I'd thought about my own newborn days, spent under the watchful eye and protective wing of Carlisle, but I was now reminded of that time, nearly a century ago. It was somewhat regrettable that I hadn't been present for Bella's change. I'd never sired another vampire before her, and I couldn't even imagine what it would be like to awaken to this new existence without any guidance or any clue as to what you had become. Besides, if I had been there with her, it would have saved me several days of misery spent pining away for her and worshiping the fading fragrance of her clothes.

Impossibly, the delectable source of that very fragrance stood mere feet from me. The magnitude of this truly incredible gift had yet to sink in. Even my complex vampire brain could hardly absorb it… She was here! Strangely, I wasn't saddened that I would never have another taste of her blood, because she sang to me now as strongly as ever. It was a new song, though, that called out to every fiber in my being… the song of her body, her soul. _La tua cantante_. The one thing that I ever wanted in my entire pitiful existence was now here in my bedroom. The frail human girl was gone, replaced by a much more exquisite and durable creature… and she would be mine for all of eternity.

**BPOV**

He drew closer, and some kind of fight-or-flight response was triggered within me. Before I even made the conscious decision, I found myself standing in front of the window. But only milliseconds later, Edward appeared directly before me, blocking my path of escape.

"Don't even think about it, Isabella," he spat harshly. "This skittish behavior is trying my already limited patience."

Startled by his abrupt words, I let out a hiss of fright before retreating in a flash to the farthest end of the room, my back to the corner. I took in deep gulps of air, trying to focus my mind. Despite my panicked state, I knew that in order to get out of here I would have to somehow reign in my emotions and regain control of my facilities… I only hoped it would be enough.

Remaining in his position near the window, Edward sighed, running his fingers through his messy bronze hair in an oddly human motion. When he looked up, he seemed regretful— in fact he was almost _pouting._

"I'm sorry, love," he said with a soft sigh, "I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that my temper gets the best of me sometimes." His apology was punctuated with a boyishly lopsided grin. But I had been dazzled by that very smile before, when he played the role of an innocent boy to lure me out into the woods. I snarled at the recollection.

"Hush now, love, don't be afraid. I won't hurt you," Edward cooed in a velvety tone.

Rather than soothing my nerves as was his intent, those words brought back a fuzzy memory from that fateful day in the forest…

_"Hush now, Bella. This doesn't have to hurt. I can make it feel good for you. Do you want me to do that for you, Bella?"_

That was the question he'd asked me, and I had agreed, right before he sunk his long fingers into the wetness between my legs and his razor-sharp teeth into the compliant skin of my neck. When I'd nodded in the affirmative, I had traded my dignity and self respect to spare myself a few fleeting moments of pain. And I _enjoyed_ it. The things I allowed him to do in order for him to 'make it feel good' for me were disgusting, degrading, humiliating – and I hated myself for it. But even more, with every bone in my cold, dead body, I hated _him_.

I wasn't listening to his words as he blathered on in that falsely reassuring tone, because the thick fog of fear was beginning to lift from my consciousness and being swiftly replaced by hatred and determination. Finally, I gained enough control over my own impulses to stand, and I did so, but remained in my corner of the room.

Edward laughed boyishly, and it was a rich, musical sound. "Bella, why did you come here if you're just going to run and hide from me?" he asked, trying and failing to affect a serious expression.

I took a deep breath for composure, then answered with finality. "I'm not running anymore."

"Ah, she speaks!" he teased, smirking. I remained still. "Are you finally going to admit why you came here? I've been making an effort to be patient until you could overcome your… _overly emotional_ newborn tendencies enough to say it."

I wondered if it could really be possible that he knew I was here to kill him. Regardless, I was about to show him just how 'overly emotional' this newborn could get.

"What exactly are you talking about?" I asked, humoring him for the moment, though I was truly curious as to what he had to say.

"There's no need to play coy, my love— I know why you're here. You've come to claim me as your one true mate."

I gasped incredulously. HIS MATE?? If he believed THAT, his sister Rosalie was right, he was out of his fucking mind.

"Come now, don't be shy," he continued with an indulgent smile, "I felt the connection to you the moment I first laid eyes on you. I thought it was just your blood that sang to me, but it's much more than that. And now you have returned to me… we are fated to be together."

In absolute shock, I held my hand up to silence him, and he paused for a moment.

Completely unbidden, peals of raucous laughter suddenly erupted from my throat. The puzzled, slightly affronted look on Edward's face only made me laugh harder. I could barely speak through my maniacal laughter, and it was a good thing that I didn't really have to breathe or I might have passed out.

"You think—" I started before heaving a deep breath and trying to compose myself.

My amusement faded rapidly, giving way to much darker emotions. "You think that I came here to claim you as my MATE??" I asked, my words increasing in pitch as I spoke. "What is wrong with you, you SICK FUCK? You _killed_ me! You drank my blood as I lay dying in your arms and you _enjoyed_ it!"

I approached Edward, who looked horrified by my rant. "Even worse, you're responsible for this—" I yelled, wildly gesturing to my body, "vile MONSTER that I've become! And you think I want to _date_ you??"

"No, I didn't say that I want to _date_ you, I said that I wanted to _mate_ with you, as in 'together for all eternity'. It's quite different," he clarified quickly. "And, if it helps," he added, peering up at me from under his eyelashes, "I regretted killing you, after the fact."

"No, it doesn't help!" I roared, further infuriated by his "chastised boy" look. "You were probably only sorry that I ran out of blood, and that you didn't have sex with me when you had the chance!"

Edward shrugged noncommittally, flashing a small, deceptively sweet smile.

I snapped. "I've come for vengeance, you psycho!" I screamed. Edward rolled his eyes but otherwise didn't react. "I'm here to destroy you," I continued, pulling the lighter out of my pocket and waving it around threateningly, "like someone should have done a long time ago."

Edward's eyes followed the motion of the silver lighter for a moment before he dropped the façade of innocence like a hat, his face twisting into an angry scowl. "Hear this, _little girl_," he snarled, "You are my life now, as I am yours. Denying it will only make it harder on yourself."

I raised my chin in indignation, emboldened by my own temper.

"That invisible pull you feel, drawing you to me like a magnet?" he continued lowly. "It connects us because we were made for each other. It is our _destiny_ to be together as one."

Unable to listen to any more of his nonsense, I moved toward Edward until I was as close to his face as I could get. "Fuck your destiny," I spat. "If you and I were meant to be together as one, then perhaps the ashes of our dead bodies will mix together in the wind."

He stared at me crossly for a full minute, but eventually his expression softened to one of resignation. He turned and knelt down on the floor, his back to me.

"If that is truly what you want, then do it," he said evenly, still facing forward. "Destroy me."

* * *

**A/N: Hmm. What did you think?**


	9. Chapter 9

_Penance_

**BPOV**

My eyes widened in shock and confusion, because I couldn't believe that he was seriously volunteering for this. "Wh- Why?" I sputtered.

"As if I could deny you anything," Edward said with a sigh. "I've been miserably roaming this earth for decades before you were even born, searching for meaning – for _purpose_, and finding none. I've hunted the very worst of humankind and seen the depths of their depravity… misery and murder and _pure evil_ that you could never comprehend. I've lost faith in everything… become bitter, jaded, selfish… and now I've murdered an innocent. Even my own father suspects I've lost whatever shred of humanity I ever had. Perhaps now the time has come for me to atone for my sins."

Edward's voice took on a somber tone, and he turned his head to the side to look at me. "The people I hunted, the things I saw… they changed me, you know. I didn't used to be this way."

"'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you'," I quoted. I wasn't sure exactly why I felt compelled to speak, but something in his words struck a chord in me. I was fully aware of how completely a person could be changed when exposed to the darkness in this world. For him, it took years of playing God and rooting around in the heads of the wicked… for me, it took only a day—the day I lost the two people who were my entire world to a senseless accident, and I was left behind without them. That day changed me forever.

"Nietzsche. _Fascinating_," Edward said softly. He broke into a mischievous grin and wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Or, as a great philosopher once said, 'You are what you eat'." He turned to face forward once again. "All right, Bella, I'm ready."

"In that case, I'll do us both a favor," I whispered, flipping up the lid of the small silver lighter and igniting the flame.

With no idea how to actually go about the task, I took a step towards Edward's kneeling form, preparing to try to light the hem of his shirt. When I realized that this was finally happening, my stomach felt sick. I thought I'd feel ecstatic, or at least satisfied, but it just seemed… _wrong_. As I extended the lighter in my shaking hand, I tried to imagine what would happen to Edward when I touched the flame to his clothing, because I needed to be prepared. Would the shirt burn quickly, engulfing his entire body in flames within minutes? Or would he have to wait in agony for the flames to slowly wick up the shirt to the marble skin of his back? Would his unblemished skin blacken and char like paper, or melt and ooze away like wax? Would the heat first burn away his messy bronze hair and thick eyebrows? Would he scream for me to make it stop, or cry out my name in anguish?

The lighter fell to the floor with a soft thud, and I turned away, gagging. I tried to pick it up again, but my hand was shaking too badly to grasp properly. "Shit," I cried as I grabbed for the lighter with both hands, finally managing to pick it up.

Suddenly, Edward spoke. "No, darling."

I froze. Was he stopping me? My feelings were an odd mixture of disappointment and relief.

"You have to rip my head off first," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I… What?" I choked in disbelief.

"You have to rip my head off," he repeated, "_then_ burn my body. Just burning us doesn't work… it would hurt like hell and be entirely unpleasant to watch, but ultimately ineffective. I would eventually regenerate."

I just stood there silently shaking my head, my mouth open in horror.

"Take two steps forward, Isabella," Edward said in a velvety tone, and I complied wordlessly. "Now take both hands and put them on either side of my face with your fingers under my jaw."

I extended my hands to his cheeks and he used his own hands to adjust their position. "There. Now grip firmly…" I squeezed slightly, but I didn't want to grab his face too hard. "Firmly, Isabella," he commanded. I gripped his jaw harder in response. "Good. Now, you're going to twist as hard as you can and pull. You'll see an odd fracture pattern begin to form around my neck, and there will be a horrific tearing sound, but don't let it scare you. I'd, uh, really rather you not stop mid-way with my head half torn-off," he finished with a nervous laugh.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I could feel the lines of Edward's strong, defined jaw beneath my hands, my fingertips barely grazing the edge of his full lips. Selfishly, I drew comfort from the silkiness of his skin as I tried to steel myself for what I was about to do. I envisioned that this was all over. I would find a way to destroy myself soon after Edward was gone—if tearing my own head off and falling forward into a fire wouldn't work, then I would find another vampire to do it. My impression was that it wouldn't take much to talk Edward's sister, the venomous blonde, into ripping my head from my shoulders and setting me ablaze.

The thought of his sister stopped me in my tracks. Even if they were a family of undead abominations, the Cullens were still a family. What would Rosalie say when she realized Edward was gone? What about Alice… would her kind golden eyes glaze over with pain? Or his father, Carlisle… would his warm, compassionate face crumple in sorrow? And his mother… how would she grieve for her lost son when she wasn't even able to shed a tear? They all obviously cared for him… would the family ever get over their loss?

I knew the answer to that, even if I wasn't ready to face it. No, they wouldn't. When I lost my parents, a part of me died with them. You never really recover from the loss of a loved one, not completely. Perhaps the pain dulls with time, but it doesn't go away. The big, gaping holes left in your heart and your life heal around the edges, and you can try to fill them in with other things, but the voids will be there forever. Could I doom Edward's loved ones to an eternity of that?

When I actually considered it, I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill Edward, because I refused to put his loved ones through that kind of pain—not after having been through it myself. When my mom and dad died, the pain was so acute that death seemed like a welcome way to end my suffering. No, I wouldn't wish that on anyone… not even my worst enemy. Not even Edward Cullen.

His silken voice interrupted my reverie. "Um, Bella? I understand that some things are better if you draw them out, but I'm quite certain this isn't one of them."

With a deep sigh, I released Edward's face from my grip and took a step back. He turned to me with an attractive eyebrow raised in question, but all I could do was just shake my head.

Feeling an intense need to get away, I sprang for the window, breaking the glass as I crashed through it. My feet were moving before I even hit the ground and I tore through the forest like the devil himself was in hot pursuit. Eventually, my strides slowed and I found myself in the center of a clearing. In the pale moonlight, the little meadow was strangely beautiful, and I gracefully slid to the ground, my head in my hands.

I couldn't believe what just happened. I couldn't even do it. I couldn't kill him. It certainly wasn't because Edward had any redeeming qualities – I just couldn't find the strength within myself to take that final step. _Weak_… I was so weak! My murderer practically offered up his head to me on a silver platter and all I could was run away…

I heaved a sigh and dug my toe into the earth. The fire within me had burned down to ash, and I felt cold inside. My unbeating heart was hollow. I couldn't recall ever having felt this empty, not since my parents' funeral. After waking up in the ground in Phoenix, my sole purpose had been finding my killer and exacting revenge, and that motivated my every thought and action. I had a purpose – a mission to complete – and now I have nothing. Absolutely nothing left to live for… if you can even call this living.

I decided to ask Edward to put me out of my misery. He certainly had no qualms about ending my life before—in fact, I would venture to guess that killing me has been his favorite activity to-date. Decision made, I leaned back into the grass and waited, because I knew it was only a matter of time before the devil caught up to me.

**EPOV**

As Bella crashed through my bedroom window, I collapsed to the floor, my head in my hands. It was physically painful to let her go, but I knew that I should give her some time to work through things in her head.

Our encounter had gone so poorly, and I had no one to blame but myself. I had spoken to her harshly, hoping to startle her and distract her from her goal of escape, but I didn't intend to scare her so badly. I'd apologized and spoken sweet words… I said anything I could think of to try to calm her down, but nothing seemed to work. When she'd finally spoken, it was to berate me and laugh in my face.

Bella had announced that she'd come to exact her revenge on me, but I was mostly unaffected by her words. I'd thought she had returned to me because she recognized our connection, but, truly, her motivation made no difference. Love, hate… it mattered not. She came because she _had_ to, because we are inextricably linked together. For better or for worse, fate had bound us together for all of eternity, and I hoped she would realize that sooner rather than later, for both our sakes.

When she pulled out the lighter, I had no choice but to call her bluff. Of course, she didn't realize she was bluffing at the time, but I knew. It was almost laughable when she called herself a monster—the notion was ridiculous. She was absolutely adorable in her fury, like a kitten that fancied itself a tiger. She could never be a killer, because her soul was innocent. If anyone could keep their innocence and carry their very soul through the change, it was Bella.

I had no choice but to kneel before her; Bella would have been hell-bent on trying to tear me apart until she figured out that she couldn't do it. When I offered her my head, though, I was truly prepared to let her have it. It wasn't a selfless act, but an act of atonement. I had meant what I said when I'd spoken to her about the darkest period in my existence, and I ended up revealing more to her than I have to anyone, even Carlisle. Somehow, I thought she would understand, and perhaps she did.

Standing up from my spot on the carpet, I fluidly leaped through the broken window to the ground below. I needed to find Bella, console her if necessary, and somehow win her affection. She would probably be upset with herself since she was unable to complete her plan for vengeance. I imagined she would take her inability to destroy me as a sign of weakness, when actually, it was the opposite. It is quite easy to let the monster take over (I should know), but it takes true strength of conviction to overpower the dark urges to kill and conquer.

Running through the trees at top speed, I tracked Bella's intoxicating scent to a small meadow in the woods. She was there, her perfect form stretched out in the grass with her eyes closed, and it took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to pounce upon her and show her to whom she belonged.

Instead, I sat silently in the grass beside her, enjoying the silence of her mind until she decided to speak. When she did, her words were the last ones I expected to hear.

"I need you to finish what you started, Edward." she said confidently, sitting up to face me. "I need you to kill me."

"What?" I gasped, shocked. "I cannot. I _will_ not!" Now that I knew she was changed, I couldn't even imagine a world where she didn't exist. Impossible.

"You can and you will!" she shouted in retort. "You owe it to me, Edward. I was never meant to be this way, anyway… I'm only here because you made a mistake and didn't finish me off."

"My only mistake was when I thought I had killed you," I explained, my eyes pleading with her to understand. "The fact that you are here with me now is a miracle!"

"Wake the fuck up, Edward," she growled, "Your miracle is my _nightmare_. I'm not sure what kind of sick delusion you have about us being soulmates, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that it's never going to happen." She added with a grumble, "Over my cold, dead body."

"I would love to be over your cold, dead body," I said huskily, flashing her a smirk. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

"Aaaarrrrgh," she screamed in kittenish frustration. "You're a murderous pervert, and now that I _want_ you to kill me, you won't!"

"That pretty much sums it up, love," I stated. It was true.

"I hate this," she snarled, "and I hate _you_ for making me this way. All I want to do is kill! It makes me sick and I can't stand it! And I'm supposed to exist this way forever?"

I understood her concerns, but I had to make her understand that she had to live—I could no longer exist without her. She was the key to bringing meaning to my existence.

"There are other ways to live," I insisted, "besides drinking human blood. My family and I survive on the blood of animals. You could learn to overcome the bloodlust… You wouldn't have to kill people!"

"Does anyone ever 'slip up', Edward?" she questioned lowly, already knowing the answer.

I hesitated, then answered truthfully. "Yes. We all have, except for Carlisle. And I only drank the blood of murderers and rapists during my 'rebellious phase', until I met you. Your blood sang to me, Bella—you smelled better to me than anyone else, like my own personal brand of heroin. The Italians call it _La tua cantante_… you were impossible for me to resist."

"You say you had no choice in the matter, then." I nodded in affirmation. "But you have a choice now," she continued. Shit. "End my nightmare, Edward, please. What about atonement? Here's your chance."

Bella's pouting face was lovely, but what she was asking was ridiculous and my patience with this argument was wearing thin. I decided to switch up my strategies and try being forceful. "Enough," I stated firmly. "I'm not going to destroy you, so the sooner you get the absurd notion out of your head, the better. Let's go home; we can talk there."

I gracefully stood and offered my hand to Bella. After glaring at my hand like it was a snake poised to strike, she batted it away and rose to her feet without assistance. "If you think I'm going anywhere with you, you can keep fucking dreaming, asshole!" she screeched.

"I wasn't asking," I replied simply, letting a bit of anger seep into my tone. "Your place is with _me _now. Come along or I will drag you," I threatened. "Don't think I won't."

Her tiny body started shivering, whether with fear or fury I couldn't tell, but I had the strongest urge to wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly to my chest. However, that would probably make her feel worse rather than better at this point, so I refrained.

"You might be able to overpower me now, Edward Cullen," Bella said, her voice wavering with emotion, "but you can't keep me forever. I'll kill myself at the first opportunity, I swear it."

"Suicide is nearly impossible as a vampire, Isabella," I said coldly, but her words gave me pause. There was always a way, and I had no doubt that this resourceful girl could end her own existence someday.

"I could always have another vampire do it," she retorted. I froze. "I'm sure your charming sister Rosalie wouldn't have a problem fulfilling my request."

"I'd tear her arms off before she got anywhere near you," I growled, terrified and enraged by the thought. I couldn't bear to lose her—I'd only just found her. She was my life now.

The mere idea of Bella destroying herself was agony. I dropped to my knees in the dirt before her. "You can't, Bella, please!" I begged. "I can't live in a world where you don't exist… _I need you_." If I could have, probably would've been sobbing at this point.

"I honestly don't give a fuck what you need, Edward. I don't want this! I never wanted this."

"But I know you can feel it, too!" I pleaded. "We're connected."

"You can keep my ashes after I'm gone," she said quietly, shaking her head.

I was absolutely desperate. I had to convince her somehow… if she gave it a chance, I know she'd realize we were meant for each other. Losing her was simply not permissible.

An idea suddenly struck me, and the words were out of my mouth before I could stop to think them through. "What about your revenge?" I questioned, springing to my feet, my hope reignited. "Don't you want to punish me for what I did to you?"

Bella stared at me, unmoving, so I goaded her a bit (well, more than a bit). "Have you forgotten so easily, my love?" I asked in my smoothest, most alluring voice. "I drank your sweet, delicious blood. I touched your beautiful body and made you cry out for me." I circled her predatorily, stopping mere inches from her gorgeous face, which was twisted into an expression of unadulterated rage. "Would you like to know what I wanted to do to you as you lay there helpless, taking your last breaths… what I almost did?"

Her arm moved so fast that I didn't even see it coming. With a furious screech, she backhanded me across the face with enough force to fling my body halfway across the clearing. I landed on my shoulder and it gouged out a deep rut in the ground from the impact. I definitely deserved that.

With the sexiest growl I've ever heard, she came barreling across the meadow at me. I easily evaded her head-on attack, spinning to the side at the last second and pinning both her arms behind her back. It was the first time I had touched her since she was human, and I couldn't resist pulling her close until the length of her body was pressed against mine. She was panting heavily out of habit, and the slight friction of her firm body moving against mine made me growl in pleasure. When she started squirming against me, struggling to remove her arms from my grip, I threw my head back and groaned loudly.

"You're only making it _harder_, love," I said with a lascivious grin. She growled viciously, and the vibrations of her body nearly made my eyes roll back into my head. "As I was saying before, you've yet to get your revenge. Since it seems that killing me won't be an option, perhaps you could punish me for my behavior."

Bella stared back at me, her eyes black with hatred. "Get to the point, quickly," she uttered through clenched teeth.

"I'm suggesting some sort of penance. I will submit myself to your control and you can punish me… however you see fit, for as long as you see fit."

"Torture?" she asked in a low growl.

"If you wish," I replied quietly. I didn't bother affecting an innocent expression, because I noticed that it tended to make her even angrier. "Then, when you're ready, you can go ahead and destroy yourself." Like hell she could.

"Why?"

"You need to avenge your death, and I just need to be around you for as long as I can, in whatever way you'll have me," I answered honestly, releasing her thin wrists from my stone grip as I spoke.

She turned away for a moment, obviously contemplating my proposal, then turned back to face me.

"We start now," she snarled, grabbing me by the throat and yanking my much larger frame back in the direction of the house.

Her face was turned away, so she didn't see my pleased little smirk. Darkly, I was somewhat looking forward to our little game of punishment. After all, I reasoned, what's the worst she could do?

* * *

**A/N:** Oooh, what do you think she's going to do to him?


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **SM owns Twilight. I own this dark, torturous shit.

* * *

_Control_

**BPOV**

As I dragged the murderous bastard back to his house, I fantasized about hurting him. I wanted to break him down physically and emotionally until there was nothing left and he was just as dead inside as I was. But what could possibly be punishment enough for sentencing me to an eternity of damnation? I wished there were some way to make him feel the absolute terror I had felt when he lured me out in the woods and violated my body, taking my blood and my life. He was already damned; the only adequate retribution that I could fathom would be making him feel what I felt on the day he killed me, because that would be the worst torture I could imagine.

Even as I imagined Edward shaking with terror and squirming in pain, my complex brain was cycling through different scenarios of torture, searching for an effective punishment. I still couldn't get used to how much my mind had changed since my death – it felt faster, sharper, and somehow darker… not to mention the strange ability to construct walls inside my mind. Something inside my head clicked into place in a sudden epiphany… The walls that seemed to separate my consciousness from the outside world must be a part of some supernatural vampire power. I had learned before that Edward's siblings had the strange capabilities of empathy and precognition, so for me to have some kind of flexible mental partition didn't seem inconceivable.

My sharp vampire mind had effortlessly compiled the evidence, and it suddenly became obvious that I had a mental shielding ability that had been manifesting itself since my change. And the shield didn't just serve to block my mind—it seemed that the walls around my consciousness could be expanded to encompass others, as I had done with Edward in the school parking lot. Inadvertently, I was able to shield him from his siblings' powers for a moment. I remembered the feeling—it was as though the walls of my mind stretched to enclose him in some sort of tunnel with me.

Though I still wanted to die and planned to do so soon, punishing my killer was the only thing left worth living for, and I wouldn't waste the opportunity to damage him as much as I could. If I could control my mental partition, it might be possible for me to bring Edward deeper into my mind—to show him what I want him to see, make him feel what I want him to feel, and take him into that deep, dark nothingness where I stayed after my change. In that black void, you could see nothing and feel nothing, and time lost meaning. I could think of few punishments that would be worse for an obsessive control freak than the kind of absolute vulnerability that he would feel when trapped inside the murky depths of my mind.

When we reached the destroyed front door of the Cullen house, I released Edward's neck from my grip. He automatically stretched back up to his full height, towering over me, and his silhouette was monstrously flawless in the half-darkness. "What's next, love?" he asked smoothly, failing to hide his cocky smirk. Hating his use of the ridiculous endearment, I reigned in my temper for the moment, focusing instead on the mental image of him writhing on the floor in misery.

"Wait upstairs in your room," I demanded with more confidence than I felt.

"I'll see you soon," he replied obnoxiously before disappearing up the stairs.

Searching for some sort of inspiration to make my vision of torture complete, I made my way up to the second floor. I entered the first bedroom on the right, and my eyes were immediately drawn to a pile of metal items on the bed. When I moved closer to examine them, I found a note on top, written in a neat feminine script.

**Bella –**

** These are reinforced titanium. They can**

** hold him temporarily, but not if he struggles.**

** - Alice**

I dropped the cryptic note and picked up the other items from the bed. There was a long, thick metal chain and a pair of large, sturdy-looking shackles that felt cool and solid in my marble hands. Unbelievably, it appeared that Edward's psychic sister had foreseen that I might need these items. Though she wasn't able to see my future directly, I supposed it was possible that she had a vision of her brother chained to the wall… But what kind of sister would provide torture implements to use on her brother? I had no idea, but I let out a choked giggle at the ridiculousness of the whole situation.

When I thought about it though, chaining him up was a brilliant idea. Even though the chains ultimately couldn't hold Edward if he tried to pull out of them, they would reinforce his submissive mindset and emphasize his inability to control the situation.

Shackles and chains in hand, I moved up the stairs to Edward's bedroom at human speed, trying to draw out the anticipation a bit. Actually, I was getting nervous about what I was planning to do. I started questioning myself… What if I couldn't control my mental walls as well as I'd hoped? I would end up looking like a fool, and Edward would get by unscathed… I shook my head to clear it of my negative thoughts, then pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside.

"Oh, _this_ should be good," Edward said mockingly, looking at the metal restraints in my hands with amusement.

At that moment, I wished I would have ripped his head off when I had the chance. I furrowed my eyebrows, focusing intently on his dark crimson eyes. I felt the leaden walls within my mind lift, then snap back into place. Edward's body folded to the floor, and I could _feel_ his consciousness inside my head. I did it! He was there, in that quiet, dark part of my mind that once served as my retreat… it was now his prison.

Inordinately pleased to have silenced him for the moment, I pulled Edward's lanky form over to the wall. When I picked up one of his lean, muscular arms to place the shackle around his wrist, I noticed an oddly pleasant buzz of electricity where our bare skin made contact. Ignoring the tingling sensation, I shackled his other wrist, then attached both shackles to the length of chain. I stood to find a place to secure the chain—it looked like I would have to somehow wrap it around the bookcase, but then I noticed a set of metallic hooks embedded in the wall. Alice!

Inexpertly, I hooked the chains to the wall, pulling Edward into a kneeling position with his arms hanging on either side above his head. Stepping back to examine my work, I thought it looked pretty secure. And I had to admit that I relished the sight of my killer, helpless on his knees. Getting a sudden inspiration, I briskly ripped his t-shirt from his lean body, hoping that he would feel somewhat violated when he awakened. His shirtless form was like a grotesque work of art, his black soul belied by an undoubtedly beautiful body.

Taking a deep breath of unnecessary air, I mentally lifted the walls and freed him from the dark recesses of my consciousness.

**EPOV**

I opened my eyes, only to find myself half-naked and chained to my bedroom wall. What. The. Fuck? Bella was in front of me, a smug little smile on her perfect, heart-shaped face. Instinctually, I started to pull at the restraints to free my arms, but she stopped me.

"Easy there, Edward. Don't struggle or you'll break them," she said in a lyrical voice.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I questioned, looking up at her in absolute bewilderment. One moment I was fantasizing about the naughty things I could do with those chains, and the next minute I was in a fathomless void. I had no concept of how long I was there, be it hours or years, but when I opened my eyes once more, I found myself kneeling here before my mate.

"It would seem you aren't the only gifted vampire here, Edward," Bella explained, pacing across the room in front of me. "I chained you up for effect, but obviously you could break free if you wanted. Please don't, though… I kind of like you this way."

"I won't!" I reassured her automatically. If having me bound to the wall turned her on, then I would try my hardest not to pull free from the restraints. "But how did you do that?" I persisted.

"I'm not exactly sure," she said vaguely. "I'm just now figuring it out myself. Shall we get started with your punishment?"

My cocky attitude faded as I realized that I had underestimated Isabella's ability to torment me. Just the thought of going back to that dark prison of nothingness made me shudder. I had to wonder what else she could do…

Not waiting for an answer, she came up in front of me and grabbed a handful of my hair. She yanked my head back roughly so that I was looking up at her, and I involuntarily let out a soft growl.

"Do you remember the day we met, Edward?" she began in a haunting tone. "_I_ do…"

I felt myself being enclosed in her mental walls… I could still see, but part of my consciousness was trapped. When I was pulled deeper, I could sense Bella there with me. I was pulled deeper yet, and I found myself inside a memory. I was there _with _Bella, seeing things through her eyes and feeling everything she felt. It was one of the most intense experiences of my existence (second only to drinking Bella's blood), and it had only just begun…

_We pulled into the high school parking lot in an ancient red truck. We felt so nervous—so unsure of ourselves that we almost didn't get out of the truck. _ Having never felt anything quite like it before, I didn't realize that nervousness could be so debilitating. _We did get out, though, and we headed through the lot to the main office. _

_We walked with our hood up and our head down, pointedly ignoring the stares of the other students. We wanted nothing more than to blend into the background and become invisible. Our foot caught on a rock, and we stumbled slightly. A laugh rang out behind us and our cheeks heated with embarrassment._ The feeling of embarrassment was uncomfortable, and I hoped we didn't trip again. I was startled by the intensity and vividness of all her emotions, because I hadn't felt anything but rage and lust and greed in a very long time.

The memory seemed to fast-forward, then I saw him… I saw _myself_. _He was staring at us oddly from across the cafeteria. We thought he was strange and beautiful—so ethereally beautiful that we had to look away because it was too much. After lunch, we entered the biology classroom, still nervous and uncomfortable. We didn't want to be the center of attention, but it felt like everyone was looking at us_. _We were directed to an empty spot in the back of the room, and when we turned to take our seat, we saw him._ It was me… I had a murderous glare in my black eyes that could scare a demon back to hell. _We wondered what we possibly could have done to deserve such hatred? _

_We had to go back there to sit with him, but we didn't want to. Every bone in our body was screaming at us to turn around and run the other way._ _He exuded an awful energy… it was predatory and hateful. _My limbs felt almost paralyzed by fear. This… this is what she felt? It was dreadful, and so far, all he… all _I _had done was look at her. _Fighting the urge to run, we made our way back to sit beside the furious boy-monster. He sniffed at the air and clung to the underside of the table, looking like he could spring out of his chair and pounce on us at any moment. We felt as though our heart would beat out of our chest._ This is what my victims felt like in their final moments?

_As terrifying as he was, almost against our will, we were captivated by him. Everything about him seemed to draw us in—he was so sensual and so powerful… We could feel the first stirrings of arousal deep in our stomach, and it felt so wrong, but we couldn't stop the hot, achy feelings from building up inside. We fantasized about touching him, but it made us uncomfortable because we had never even considered touching a man before. We wondered what he would look like, or what he might taste like... _

_We were shocked when he asked us to follow him outside, but we were almost hypnotized by his voice. He blew a breath of the sweetest scent imaginable into our face, and our thoughts went fuzzy._ No! _We were being led outside… we didn't want to go, but we couldn't stop. We were powerless to refuse him. He smiled to reassure us, but it was a dark expression that set us even more on edge. He was circling us and touching us while our mind was wracked with confusion. We started to panic… he wasn't what he seemed to be. He was bad. He was wrong. He was going to hurt us. _

I was utterly terrified, and my body shook uncontrollably. God, would it ever end? _Sickly, he seemed to enjoy our terror. A tear rolled down our cheek and he licked it off with his strange, cold tongue. He was nuzzling us and rubbing his hardness on us and it was unfamiliar and awful. We were so afraid…_

"Stop!" I screamed. I almost imagined that my eyes were still filled with Bella's salty tears. "That's enough! I don't want to see any more. Please!"

Bella's words broke my still heart. "I can't stop it yet… I hear the end's the best part," she said flatly.

_His hands seemed to be everywhere. He was grabbing us hard in places we'd never been touched before… it hurt and it was embarrassing… we hated it. Why wouldn't he stop? What did we do to deserve this? We asked him to stop, but he refused… he was enjoying this and it didn't matter how we felt or what we said. We had never felt so unimportant… so used. _

"Please don't make me endure the rest," I begged in a sob, but my plea went unanswered.

_He offered to take the pain away, and we were afraid of the pain, so we let him. He kissed us and touched us… our brain was hazy with confusion, but he made our body feel good. When he started to take off our clothes, we knew we should stop him, but our hands didn't respond. We felt ashamed and exposed, but we couldn't stop what was happening._ I couldn't help but get aroused by the scene playing out before me, but it felt dirty and wrong. _He put his fingers inside of us and the feeling was so foreign… we didn't really understand what he was doing but it felt warm and wet and good._

_Our muscles started to tighten as if we were building up to something, but we didn't know what. We wanted comfort and reassurance, but the only thing we had to cling to was the cold, uncaring monster with his hand between our legs._ God, this was sick. _The tension in our belly built up to a climax and a wave of warm ecstasy washed over us, shaking our body from the inside out._

_While the warm waves continued, he leaned over and pierced the sensitive skin of our neck with his razor-sharp teeth—we cried out in pain and pleasure. We were so confused… we didn't know what to feel. As things got darker and duller, he twitched and moaned and squirmed beneath us. We slowly realized that we were dying, and he was enjoying it._ Please, no! _Our fear melted with the scene around us, leaving us feeling tired and heavy. Gradually we lost control of our limbs, and everything faded to black…_

The walls lifted in the blink of an eye, and I found myself rocking back and forth slightly on my knees, my arms still chained. There was an awful, mournful screeching noise. I realized it was me—I was screaming. Eventually I stopped screaming, but my hunched body was shaking so hard that the chains were rattling against the wall. I wanted to break free from the shackles, but my body seemed to be in some sort of vampiric state of shock. I couldn't do anything but sit there, trembling pathetically.

Bella sat across from me against the opposite wall, her dark eyes filled with undecipherable emotion. "Sit up, Edward," she commanded coldly.

I tried to gather myself enough to speak. "Wha—what?"

"Up!" she said more forcefully. I attempted to straighten my back and draw my trembling body up as much as I could. "God, Edward, look at you," she said disdainfully, eyeing me. "You're _hard_. Is that really all it takes to get you up?"

I looked down, and it was true—the fabric my jeans was stretched with my erection. I couldn't control it… I didn't want to feel that way! I hated everything I saw and felt in her mind. But some part of me must have enjoyed it – wanted it, even – and it was disgusting. _ I_ was disgusting.

"I can't help it," I muttered, my voice breaking.

"Of course you can't," she scoffed, "you're an overexcitable virgin. Did you really think that I would ever want to be with you?" Her words were a dagger through my masculine ego.

I hung my head in shame, unable to defend myself.

Bella's hand brushed over my hard-on and I whimpered at her unexpected touch. "Is this what you want, Edward?" she cooed darkly. "Do you want me to touch you?"

I shook my head 'no'. Truly, I just wanted to throw up.

"Your cock is telling me otherwise." She reached out and massaged my length firmly through the fabric of my pants, drawing a deep groan from my exhausted throat.

"Please, stop," I mumbled weakly.

"I can't stop," she retorted matter-of-factly, throwing my own words back in my face. "I'm already going to hell anyway, so I may as well do it thoroughly."

Bella was quiet for a few minutes, and I thought my torture was over. I was wrong.

"Unfasten your pants, Edward," she said suddenly, her tone flat and unemotional.

"Wh—what?" I stuttered again. This couldn't be happening, not now…

With a sigh of frustration, she knelt in front of me and ripped my button fly apart. She tugged my jeans down a bit, and since I wasn't wearing underwear, I was completely exposed. I didn't even consider trying to fight her, because I felt utterly powerless.

"How does it feel to have your body exposed to someone else without your permission… to be helpless and vulnerable?" she growled into my face.

"Please, stop," I pled. "I never knew… I didn't realize…"

Bella continued as though I hadn't spoken. "I bet you hate to be out of control, don't you?" Her gaze dropped from my eyes, traveled down the length of my naked chest, and stopped on my erect length. I gritted my teeth in apprehension while she inspected me closely. Raising one petite hand, she grazed her fingertips over the head, and I hissed at the sensation.

She moved to kneel beside me, then she wrapped her hand around my cock and started pumping me firmly. My body responded to her touch, lengthening and hardening even more, but I wanted her to stop. Feeling helpless and ashamed, I tried to concentrate on not climaxing… for once in my life, I didn't want it. If I came to her touch, my humiliation would be complete, and she would win. When I looked down at her tiny hand working me, I almost lost it. Determined to keep control, I closed my eyes, hissing in frustration. She sped her movements, no doubt trying to finish me off, but I resisted.

"Not now," I growled softly, "Not like this, I'm begging you."

"How does it feel—" she began seductively, "not to be in control of your own body? How does it feel when it bends to someone else's will and you can't stop it?"

I resisted her with everything in me. My eyes were squeezed shut and I was panting for air, pained determination scrunching my face. Bella's unoccupied hand crept up my stomach to rub my nipple roughly, and I couldn't contain the cry that escaped my lips. My body started to shake from all the stimulation, and I was losing control fast. With two fingers, she wiped something wet across my mouth. My tongue darted out and swept the wetness from my bottom lip, and I recognized the taste. It was Bella's arousal.

My orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I came with a grunt all over the floor. I was still trembling and panting, but Bella didn't pause for even a moment. She just stood up and wiped her hand on her jeans, walking to the door with barely a look in my direction. "Clean up the mess you made on the rug," she said condescendingly, shutting the door behind her.

I was left, chained to the wall in a puddle of my own venomous semen, stripped of both my clothes and my dignity.

* * *

**A/N: **How does Bella feel about what just happened? Review to find out…


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Here's a long-awaited update! Review and send me some encouragement…**

_Conflicted_

**BPOV**

God, what had I done?

Emotionally drained, I collapsed on the living room couch, letting my mind replay what I had just done to Edward in excruciating detail.

The look on his face when I'd first let him out of the dark prison in my head was priceless; a mixture of confusion, irritation, and awe. I had almost felt sorry for him—for the torture I had planned—but the burning in my throat reminded me that he was the one who had sentenced me to this miserable existence. I had wanted to make him feel some fraction of the helplessness and shame that I felt on the day he killed me.

I'd made him experience it—he cried out for me to stop, but I wanted… I _needed_ him to see what he did to me that day. Edward was the most selfish creature I had ever met—he didn't have an empathetic bone in his cold, dead body, and I knew that the only way to make him understand what I went through was to force him to feel it for himself. But even after I had shown him my death, and he was shivering and keening in horror, it still wasn't enough! The monster in me screamed for more… more fear, more humiliation, more degradation… I wondered if it would ever be enough. If I tore him apart and burned him to ash in a rage, might I weep over his charred remains because there was nothing more I could do to torture him?

When I had noticed that he'd gotten aroused by the nightmarish images that played out in my mind, I totally lost it. At that moment, I lost whatever tenuous grip on sanity that I had, and my true nature was revealed. Just thinking about what I had done made me sick, and I rolled off the couch and into the floor, landing on my hands and knees with my forehead pressed to the hardwood. My lips formed a scream, but nothing came out. I sobbed and wretched silently, because I didn't deserve the satisfaction of making a sound.

I had looked at him and touched him, even as he begged me to stop. Brazenly, I'd torn his jeans open and tugged them down, freeing his naked erection. When my gaze traveled down along the fine line of bronze hair below his belly button, I couldn't tear my eyes away. I examined him openly to make him uncomfortable, but also in naïve fascination, because I had never seen a naked man before, apart from pictures in textbooks. His cock was long and smooth and hard, and it looked like it was sculpted out of marble. I grazed the tip of it with my fingertips, making him hiss at my touch, and my own body automatically reacted by growing warmer and wetter.

The fact that my body was responding to this monster's nakedness disturbed me, and I wanted to make him pay for ever getting hard in the first place. I wrapped my hand around his firm length, just like I'd heard girls talk about in the locker room, and started stroking him up and down. Edward had closed his eyes in response, whimpering softly. I'd felt darkly powerful as I held his sensitive length in my hand and rubbed him closer and closer to orgasm. He tried to resist me, but when he unconsciously began to rock his hips into my hand, I knew he was close. Instinctively, I knew what to do to bring him over the edge, and I did so shamelessly, grabbing at his nipple and rubbing my own wetness across his mouth.

When he came, his soft, male groan might have been the most erotic sound I'd ever heard, but I remembered that I'd heard that same sound before… when he was getting off on drinking my blood. Disgusted, I wiped his sticky release from my hand and left the room, commenting about the mess he'd made before I closed the door.

I felt so dirty… probably every bit as dirty as he did right now. I am a monster… and practically a rapist. I forcibly molested him, and I enjoyed it. I just had to remember, even when he looked up at me with those big, dark eyes, that he was not at all the innocent man-child that he appeared to be. In fact, he was the vilest of creatures—a wolf in sheep's clothing. Unfortunately for me, it was difficult to keep that thought cemented in the forefront of my mind when I could hear the creature in question shaking and sniffling on the floor of his room two floors above me.

I supposed I had some shred of humanity left within me, because a small part of me felt sorry for him, or at least responsible for his current condition. The darker, monstrous part of me wanted to make sure he rested and regained his mental facilities so I could begin the next round of torture. I was utterly conflicted. Almost against my will, I crept silently up the stairs. When I reached the closed door to Edward's bedroom, I paused to listen. The soft sounds inside the room had stopped. Carefully, I opened the door and peeked inside. He was on the floor, his hands still bound above him. He had pulled his jeans up to cover himself, but they were still unfastened. When I stepped into the room, a shudder wracked his body, but otherwise he didn't react to my presence.

"Edward?" I said softly. He didn't respond. "I'm going to get you out of these cuffs." Gently, I took hold of one of his arms and stretched open the metal shackle, releasing his wrist from the cuff and putting it down at his side. I repeated the action with the other arm then stepped back to look at him. He still hadn't moved, and his eyes were staring past me, wide and unblinking. I noticed that his eyes were dark—too dark. He needed to hunt.

"Edward?" I tried again, sitting down beside him. "You need to hunt. Come on, it will make you feel better."

Again, he didn't move or indicate that he'd heard me. I didn't really know what to do, but I needed to get him outside and get him to eat. I wasn't sure if vampires could go into shock or not, but he looked to be in some sort of similar state. I recognized that I really shouldn't care if he never moved from this spot again, but the empathetic human part of me _did_ care. And, at the moment, Edward looked more like a sick teenager than a vicious monster.

"I'm just going to get you dressed so we can go outside," I mumbled to his unmoving form as I dug out one of his t-shirts from a dresser drawer. I knelt down beside him and pulled the shirt over his head, pulling his arms through the holes. Pulling him up and propping him against the wall, I gingerly reached to button up his fly, but when my hands reached the buttons of his jeans, he whimpered and pulled away.

At that moment, I felt every bit the monster that I knew I was. "Sssh, I'm not going to hurt you," I reassured him. What did he think I was going to do, molest him? After what I did to him, he had every right to be afraid of me. I swallowed back the shame and spoke again. "It's okay, I won't touch you. I'm just going to fasten up your jeans and then we'll go hunt."

I quickly buttoned up his fly and pulled him up to his feet. He didn't cooperate by standing up, so I awkwardly pulled him over my shoulder and made my way outside. He wasn't too heavy for my supernatural strength, but his much larger frame made carrying him difficult at best.

When we got outside, I felt him take in a deep breath of fresh air, and he seemed to wake up a little. I sat him down on the steps of the front porch, and he remained sitting up on his own. Unsure of what to do, I sat down beside him.

"You look like you're feeling a little better," I said hoarsely, my words echoing in the dark night. Edward just nodded. "Look, I—" I began, but I didn't know how to finish the sentence. I had been about to apologize, just because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, but I didn't think I was really sorry for what I had done to him.

"Don't," he said softly, and I looked at him questioningly. "Don't say you're sorry," he said, his voice stronger this time. He smiled slightly as he turned to face me. "We both know you're not, and that's quite alright."

Again, I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded in acceptance of his words.

"So, shall we hunt?" he asked politely, standing and extending his hand to help me up. I looked at the proffered hand, about to refuse it, but he withdrew it quickly, apparently rethinking the action.

I stood unassisted and we ran together towards the forest, an unspoken and very temporary truce in place.


End file.
